


National Anthem

by MissNMikaelson



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Political Campaigns, Presidential Election, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNMikaelson/pseuds/MissNMikaelson
Summary: The 2020 race for president is on, and due to unforeseen circumstances ace reporter Elena Gilbert is assigned the travelling role. The only problem: she knows Senator Mikaelson, and has since she was five. Somehow she doubts her editor was thinking of the time they rolled around in a mud puddle as dirt.Shame since he’s not even getting that. She supposes it could be worse for Kol. He could have a reporter who knows nothing and will actually dig into his past, rather than a friend and hey, if they flirt a little (or a lot) along the way then they’re just falling into old patterns.So what if they’re both finally single?That’s not gonna change anything.
Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Kol Mikaelson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 57





	1. March 3, 2020

**Author's Note:**

> A combined labour of love with the amazing @kol-and-elena-fanfiction, told in 10 (how shall we say spicy?) spicy 🌶😏😉 chapters. 11 if we count the outtake.  
> And in case I forget to say it when I post the chapters, special shout-out to Kallia for pitching this brilliant premise, being my sounding board and making some freaking awesome political campaign manips
> 
> Obviously I don't own the Vampire Diaries or The Originals

She balled up a sheet of paper and spun in her desk chair, taking her best shot at the recycling bin in the next cubical where it bounced off the desk, teetered dangerously on the thin blue ledge and toppled into the bin.

"Yes," she threw up her hands in a quiet cheer.

"What was wrong with your recycling bin?" Caroline replaced the phone in its cradle and spun around, glaring across the aisle at her best friend.

"No challenge," she shrugged, speaking up to be heard over the cacophony of sounds. It was necessary to raise her voice for a decent conversation since dozens of people busy on phone calls, and the constant clack of keys made up the newsroom's soundtrack.

"You seriously need a new story," Caroline shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Preferably before I get hit in the head by a ream of paper."

"I've only been idle a couple minutes," she laughed.

"GILBERT!"

"Oh look," she grinned, rising from her chair, "a new story." She slipped through the rows of cubicles, pausing only long enough to look back over her shoulder and catch Caroline sneaking across the aisle. "Don't mess with my system, Care."

"Your system is a mess," she called back.

Elena knew what her friend would find in her workspace, just like she knew how it would make her brain pop. And the mini aneurysms it caused to Caroline were more than worth the extra ten minutes of searching for a pen every day.

"What's up?" She slipped into the conference room and dropped into one of the plain chairs across from her boss.

"New assignment," Reese nodded, eyes crinkling when Caroline's strangled shriek broke over the mess of sounds. "Before you go you're gonna want to clean up that desk."

"It's so much more fun to make Caroline stare at it though," she laughed, knowing the second she actually left the office her best friend would strike. By the time she returned her desk would be organized, colour coded, and would strictly adhere to the Forbes method that she still couldn't believe the blonde had patented.

"It might be amusing Gilbert, but without you running interference Forbes will implode and I don't want to deal with the mess."

That caught her attention and she perked up, drawing her shoulders back. She had known Caroline since they were kids and it took more than a day to reach impending implosions.

"Where exactly am I going?" She tilted her head.

Reese pushed his glasses up his nose and raked his greying hair from his eyes; thirty-nine years old and his sandy brown hair had been all but taken over by grey. Elena did not envy him the job.

He opened a file folder and flipped a glossy sheet of paper around. She stared at it for a moment before lifting the sheet and a single eyebrow.

"Kol Mikaelson?" She swallowed, hoping her voice didn't strain under the name.

"I'm given to understand you have a Mikaelson in your friend's list," Reese leaned back in his chair.

"You stalking my Facebook page Reese?" She fingered the edges of the page.

"I stalk all my employees Facebook pages, Gilbert." He rolled his eyes and played with a pen. "That's how I know Forbes had a dalliance with mayoral candidate Lockwood as well as an off and on thing with another Mikaelson, your ex is running on the republican ballot and one of your nearest and dearest friends is Rebekah Mikaelson. You have an in."

"I wouldn't call Rebekah an in," her eyes narrowed. "She's my friend. And I do have a good rapport with her brothers, but that has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with meeting them all at various stages in my past."

"I don't care how your 'in' came about Gilbert. The point is you've got one, and we're gonna exploit it." He turned another portrait around, this one a full colour depiction of a man who may or may not have popped into her dreams on more than one occasion. "You're joining the campaign trail."

"The election is in seven months," Elena frowned, "and I thought you had Davina Claire on the campaign trail?"

"Davina dropped out and we need another reporter on the bus, taking interviews, covering rallies, finding the skeletons in the closet to report anonymously."

"Skeletons?" Elena arched an eyebrow.

"Or gossip, if you like," Reese amended. He poked the portrait with his pen, leaving a blue dot on the pristine white shirt. "The entire country has it's eyes on him. He's the youngest candidate with an actual shot at winning this race, but nobody knows anything about his personal life. No known girlfriend, or boyfriend. We know about his political views and stance at this point; I want you to get me something more."

"Something more?" She frowned, unable to shake the feeling that he wanted career ending dirt. Granted she did know some, but it had more to do with his older brother than him, and even if she had a thought to utilize it - which she didn't - then the words would never make it to print. Still, better her than someone who would actually dig.

"Mikaelson was elected representative at twenty-five, senator at thirty, and now he's poised to be the youngest president on record, beating JFK out by eight years. He's the baby of the house and nobody has ever found dirt on him."

"Since when are we a gossip rag?" She sighed and stood up. "When do I leave?"

"Campaign swings through Virginia tomorrow. Davina will get off and you'll get on."

"Am I really going to need that?" Elena glanced in the mirror as she packed her makeup and various toiletries in the bag.

"You're going away for six months," Caroline rolled her eyes. She carefully zipped the blue dress into a garment bag.

"I'm reporting, Care," she hurried out, dropping her kit into her suitcase. "That's not a professional dress."

"No, it's a date dress," the blonde nodded, selecting shoes from the closet. "Six months on a bus, in various hotels, with other reporters and one smoking hot senator; you might want to go on a date."

"Why did you include the Senator in that list?" Elena opened the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed a handful of lace and silk. She dropped it into her open suitcase just to drive Caroline nuts.

"Because you have the hots for him," she started sorting through the scraps of lace without a word about the disorder. "And according to Bekah, he's got the hots for you."

"Nothing's going to happen between me and Kol Mikaelson," Elena sighed. She took more time folding her work clothes to avoid wrinkles, but sweats and lounge ware were thrown in indiscriminately.

"Famous last words," Caroline sang.

"Care, I'm serious," she moved to her desk to sort out her computer and various cords. "He's a presidential candidate, and I'm a reporter for an online newspaper taking a serious stab at becoming a genuine gossip rag. Nothing's gonna happen."

"Whatever you say."

* * *

Her bags were safely stowed in the bus and she was doing her level best to not think about the second handful of lace Caroline had tossed in when she thought Elena wasn't looking. It was like she had forgotten the last time Elena dated someone involved in politics.

Not that Kol was anything like Damon, but still an oath was an oath and no old crush was going to make her break it. She had sworn there would be no more politicians.

She drew a deep breath in and let it out, stepping towards the doors as a tiny brunette exited the bus. No matter how old Davina got she always seemed to resemble a porcelain doll. The innocent eyes were an act though; Davina could be as devious as anyone.

"Hey," Elena greeted, offering her a quick one-armed hug. The girl was devious, but she was an acquaintance through work and nice enough that it would have felt weird not to offer a hug.

"Hey," she nodded. There was an unguarded look in her eyes that made Elena's heart thump.

"So," she rocked back on her heels, adjusting her hold so the computer bag was in front of her. "What exactly happened?"

"What do you mean?" Davina slung her bag higher on her shoulder.

"With you," she clarified, chewing her cheek. "You've been on the trail for months and suddenly you're dropping out."

"Let's just say that he's not what he presents himself to be," Davina pursed her lips. "Take a bite if you like. You won't regret it."

"Take a bite?" Elena's eyes widened, though why she wasn't sure; it was hardly surprising. Well - she conceded, glancing over Davina quickly - maybe a little surprising.

"Sorry," she shrugged, "non-disclosure agreement; I can't say anymore."

And she didn't.

Elena watched as the young woman strode away from the bus. When she was out of sight and most of the people onboard had stepped off to stretch their legs Elena hopped up the stairs and spun into the narrow aisle.

She had thought it would be a narrow aisle. It wasn't. There was a decent amount of space to walk and more than enough seats for people to spread out if they wanted; they were empty at the moment and so held little interest to her.

At the back of the bus, lounging in his seat and reading through some sort of legal document sat the Senator. There was a layer of scruff over his jaw and a deep furrow between his brows. She knew that furrow, and she had dreamed of that scruff.

If there had been more people on the bus she might have thought through her next act, but as it was just the two of them and the driver who was well beyond earshot she strode down the aisle, dropping her bag into an unoccupied seat. She followed and plopped down across from him.

He looked up as she crossed her legs, and if anyone asked her, her toes brushing his pant leg was accidental and he was definitely not giving her his trademark panty dropping smirk that made her actually consider dropping them.

And she was not going to have to change them.

He was not affecting her with his mere presence.

"Hello, darling, fan-"

She cut him off before he could get out the full greeting, knowing it would be best to have the information out in the open from the get go. And if her eyes narrowed and her nails dug into the leather arms then, well, there was nobody around to corroborate his story.

"You fucked Davina Claire, didn't you?" It wasn't a question. They both knew it wasn't a question.

Kol closed his file folder, set it aside and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

And Elena did not, under any circumstances, lean forward too so she was mirroring him, but again, nobody was there to contradict her statement.

"Now darling," he smirked, tilting his head, "if I didn't know any better I'd day you were jealous."

"Jealous?" She scoffed, and it was in no way high pitched. "You didn't answer my question."

"Technically no, and she meant nothing to me," he shook his head.

"Why would I care what she meant to you?" Elena's lashes fluttered, brushing her cheekbones.

"I just thought you might," he shrugged, letting his fingers brush against her knee. "If she did mean anything it would have been over the second she was found compiling incriminating information. That's the thing about reporters."

"I could so easily take offence to that," Elena peaked up through her lashes. Caroline might have labeled it as flirting, but she was not flirting with him.

"You're different," his knuckles trailed down her calve and back up, slipping under the hem of her skirt and moving down again.

And dammit, she was definitely gonna have to change. He was too sexy for his own good.

"Bet you say that to all the girls," she breathed.

"Only you darling," he caught the edge of her skirt, letting his fingers dance over the material. His smouldering gaze flickered between her eyes and lips.

And she did not lick her bottom lip or lean closer. There was not a flush creeping up her neck.

"Kol," her cool breath fanned over his chin.

"Elena," his nose brushed hers.

She could practically taste his spearmint gum.

"We should…" she swallowed, reaching out to curl her fingers around his tie. "We should… should really keep this professional."

"When have we ever been professional?" His large hands covered her knee and reached for her elbow.

Elena's stomach trembled, years of tension threatened to break in that moment and she was more than willing to toss her little oath out the bus window. No politicians was all well and good, but that had been before she was in his presence again and well before she felt the magnetic pull that drew her into his orbit.

Where would they have been if she'd just given in and kissed him that first summer when the attraction began? Would things have fizzled out fast, or would he have taken a different path that didn't leave a trail of broken hearts and NDAs?

She wanted to know what it felt like, what he felt like.

"Elena," he rubbed his thumb over her thigh, "should I stop?"

"I…" She breathed slowly.

"Sir, the car is here."

Elena jumped at the gruff voice of the driver. She had completely forgotten the man was there, but Kol clearly hadn't if the way he smoothly thanked him was an indication.

"Going somewhere?" She managed to lean back, putting a gaping distance between them that made her feel cold.

"Not without you," he stood, holding out a hand.

"Kol," she started to shake her head.

"Come on, darling," he smiled, watching her expectantly, "I'm on my way to a family dinner to celebrate and you're coming with me."

* * *

She barely made it into the ambiance lighting of the restaurant before her eyes rolled, showing a glimpse of the specials board and cozy bar of which she knew every inch and featured in several pictures that lined the walls.

"Really?" She cocked an eyebrow as he lead her between tables and booths. "This is how y'all decided to celebrate."

"Have you noticed that when you're adorably exasperated your accent thickens?" He chuckled.

"I do declare that I don't know what you're referrin' to," she adopted her thickest southern drawl. "I have no accent."

"Oh bloody hell," he sighed. "You're going to do this all night aren't you?"

"It's possible," she grinned. "Seriously though, the Grill."

"I had a hankerin'," he made an attempt at her accent.

"That's really bad," Elena laughed, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Elena?"

She turned around to face the table; the question gave way to a happy squeal and the next moment she had a face full of silver blonde hair. Rebekah hugged, squeezing until she felt certain she would pop, and she hugged her right back.

"Hey Bex."

"Elena," Elijah stood, nodding his greeting and casting a questioning glance towards his brother, "how are you?"

"I'm finer than a frog hair split four ways," she chirped, backing up from Rebekah as Kol groaned. That would teach him to mock her accent.

"What?" Amusement flickered through Elijah's normally stoic eyes.

"Forgive me, Elijah, I fear the quirky expressions are my fault," Kol cleared his throat.

"Damn skippy," Elena grinned.

Kol shook his head, pulling out her chair with a fond smile on his lips.

She folded her skirt beneath her and took the seat, smiling as Rebekah sat on one side of her. The fine hairs on her arms rose when Kol sat on her other side.

"Let me guess," Rebekah tossed her hair over her shoulder, "Kol made some crack about your accent and now you're punishing him for it."

"That was the plan," she crossed her legs under the table and shook off the drawl she'd adopted.

"Don't take this the wrong way Elena," Freya lifted her water glass, "because we all love you, but what are you doing here?"

"Kol dragged me," she shrugged. Somewhere in the restaurant a flash went off as somebody took a photo behind them.

"Elena is taking over Davina's spot on the campaign trail," Kol supplied, offering a slightly better explanation.

"So you write for Davina's publication?" Finn passed the menus to her and Kol.

"Technically I've worked there longer," Elena took it with a smile even though she knew, as did everyone else at the table, that she didn't actually need it.

"If anything we should say it was Davina working for Elena's publication," Rebekah rolled her eyes, saying the former reporter's name with a grimace that suggested the syllables left a foul taste on her tongue.

"I assume your sense of integrity is better ingrained than the Claire bitch," Klaus spoke up.

"Klaus," Freya scolded with no real passion behind it.

"Don't 'Klaus' me, sister," he rolled his eyes.

"Davina spent months gathering information in an attempt to gain dirt on this family," Rebekah leaned closer, placing her hand over Elena's wrist as she whispered in a voice that didn't carry beyond their table.

"And we're trusting that you'll do a better job than your predecessor," Freya sighed, putting Klaus' words into a politer phrase.

"Of course," Elena smiled sweetly while reaching for her water glass. "I've known y'all fifteen years. Trust me when I say I won't spend my time digging up dirt and searching closets for skeletons," she swallowed the cool liquid, watching as Kol got a good mouthful before continuing. "I've already got plenty on all of y'all."

She had been hoping for a short sputter. Maybe some water down his shirt or across the table, but he just laughed softly.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing most of what you've got incriminates you too, love," Klaus chuckled.

There was a round of laughter that tapered off when Vickie stopped by the table for their orders. As predicted nobody bothered opening the menus. At that point in their lives when they went to the Grill it was because they had a 'hankerin'.

Under the table a hand rested on her left leg and it was most certainly not making her throb. His fingers were not driving her crazy with need and she was not thinking about creative excuses and subtle clues that would put both of them in the dimly lit restroom.

"I'll have my usual Vickie," she managed to keep her voice level. He brushed the smooth skin where her legs met and she squeezed her thighs tight together; his back and forth stilled as his nail gently tickled her garter.

The conversation continued around her for a moment as Vickie left to take their orders to the kitchen.

She glanced through the corner of her eye. He had his eyes focused on Elijah as his brother asked question after question but his finger continued to play with her garter. She dangled on the precipice with her decision.

And damn it if she hadn't been in this position before. It seemed every time they met his hands found their way to her body or hers landed somewhere on his, but one of them always stopped before anything actually happened; either for Rebekah's no-screwing-my-friends/brothers rule, or because one of them was involved. There was one thing she could genuinely say about Kol Mikaelson; he might have been a womanizer and a playboy but he was not a cheater.

One fling at a time.

Their fling had been years in the making.

Silently she unfolded her legs, and sensed the surprise in his hand as he turned to look at her for a split second, covering the moment with a quick question about Klaus' work.

She arched an eyebrow in silent challenge because honestly she grew really tired of denying her attraction to him. Not that she was attracted to him, or his damn smirk, or lickable abs.

Were they as defined as the last time she had seen them?

The conversation flowed around them; she took it in turns to respond and ask questions at the appropriate moments. And his hand, his damn hand, made its way upwards, steadily gaining ground with each passing second.

"So what exactly are we celebrating?" Elena reached up, tucking her hair behind her ears. The side of his hand brushed her damp panties.

"What's not to celebrate?" Kol countered with a brilliant smirk, under the table he moved down her leg and went back up, brushing her centre again.

And she did not curl her toes up tight to stop her hips from chasing his fingers.

Her eyes flickered to Vickie when she dropped by the table with glasses of champagne.

"You said you were celebrating something, and dragged me here for it, so I assumed there was something specific," she eyed the flute of sparkling liquid when Vickie placed it in front of her.

"There's always something to celebrate, isn't that right Vickie?" Kol turned his smirk on the waitress and she blushed.

Rebekah had the decency to wait for Vickie to leave before scoffing and catching her brother in a glare. Like Elena before her, she waited until he had taken a sip of water in the hopes that he would sputter and spit it up.

"You'll fuck anything that moves."

"Rebekah, please," Finn closed his eyes, as if that would tone out his siblings laughter.

Kol's composure rivalled Elijah's when he wanted it too, so he swallowed calmly and turned, winking at Elena as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs once more.

"There's not much I can do when the attraction isn't mutual, sister."

Elena couldn't be sure if it was the way he said 'attraction' or the pressure of his hand over throbbing centre, or that wink that would have made a less experienced girl swoon, but she blushed.

Thankfully everyone's eyes were on Kol and Rebekah as they traded barbs and the light pink flush could easily be mistaken for makeup or a trick of the light.

"Celebrating," Elena prompted, squirming in her chair. If his siblings asked about what was making her uncomfortable she would say it was being stuck between a bickering Kol and Rebekah.

Which was in no way a lie.

"Allow me to propose a celebratory toast," Kol reached for his flute of champagne, lifting it in salute.

Dutifully she reached for her flute.

"To old friends," he tapped the glass with Elena's. And there was no doubt he was talking about her.

"And winning the primaries," Klaus arched an eyebrow. His critical eyes flicked between Kol and Elena.

"Oh yeah," he conceded, "that too."

Elena sipped her champagne and said absolutely nothing about the way his siblings were casting knowing glances at her. She even managed to make it through a further fifteen minutes of conversation before Kol had to take his hand away to pick up his utensils.

She did not roll her hips when he was gone, but she would admit that she was hot, and not able to focus on her food without glancing at his hands and feeling a tingle in her blood.

"Excuse me," she folded her napkin and sat it on the table. "I'll be back in a moment."

On her feet she tried not to make a beeline for the restroom. Inside though she could admit that she was relieved to breathe in the cool air. She even closed her eyes and sucked a deep breath into her lungs. It wasn't enough to cool her down though so she opened her eyes with the intention of splashing freezing water on her face.

Blue eyes met hers in the mirror.

She yelped, slapping her hand over her mouth as she spun around.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Her breathless voice lacked bite and it was all Kol's fault. Kol, and his stupid dextrous fingers.

"What's going on between you and my brother?"

 _Ah Rebekah,_ she sighed, _queen of the segway._

"Nothing," she lowered her hands to her sides.

"Really," she tilted her head and stepped up close. Analytical eyes surveyed the light flush staining her throat and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. "Because you're flushed and it started when he winked at you after saying that crap about mutual attraction. Are you attracted to my brother Elena?"

"Of course not," she denied, an easy reflex after doing it for years, but her breathless voice suggested otherwise. "He's your brother."

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "The brother I had to warn again and again to leave you alone because he had it bad for you."

"He had it bad for me?" She bit her bottom lip, tucking a dark curl behind her ear.

"Of course," Rebekah scoffed, actually scoffed, "you're hot. Anyone not attracted to you is an idiot."

"Awe, thanks Bex," she smirked, attempting to change the subject before the blonde could press further or accuse her of being aroused and sneaking off to take care of that. Which to be fair she was, but she hadn't been considering slipping into a stall to finish what Kol started at the table. She _had not._ "You're hot too."

"I know I'm hot," she rolled her eyes. "I had four big brother beating the boys off me," she waved a hand. "You and Kol?"

 _Damn it,_ Elena sighed, spinning around to wash her hands. "Nothing is going on between me and Kol. I took over for Davina and he invited me to join you all tonight. That's it."

Rebekah did not need to know her brother was all but fingering her best friend under the dinner table, or that her best friend invited him to do it.

"Nothing?" Rebekah gave her a look in the mirror, suggesting she did not believe her for a moment.

"Nothing."

Back at the table Klaus stared after Rebekah's back while Elijah fixed their younger brother with an exasperated stare.

"What did you do?" Elijah pointed to his brother with his knife, and he was allowed to damn it. It wasn't threatening his Senator, it was scolding his baby brother.

"What makes you think I did anything?" Kol glanced up from cutting his chicken.

"Don't give us that you sly fox," Finn rolled his eyes.

"She ran from this table with hell hounds on her heels," Klaus mused.

"I haven't done anything," he popped the chicken breast in his mouth.

"So I shouldn't start drafting another NDA?" Elijah arched an eyebrow.

Kol paused his chewing to fix his brother with a look that suggested the lawyer had grown an extra head. The idea that such a document might be necessary sounded ludicrous, and clearly not to just his ears.

"Don't be ridiculous Elijah," Freya spoke up, donning the robe of eldest sibling she so rarely utilized, "it's Elena. And even if something happened Elena would never disclose anything."


	2. June 4, 2020 Part One

She clutched the yellow legal pad to her breast and leaned back, propping her heel on the wall. With her weight balanced on one leg in a state of semi relaxation she ignored the myriad of noises that filled campaign headquarters in favour of the small television mounted in the corner above. Someone had helpfully turned the volume up, but she still had to strain her ears.

And if anyone asked she was making mental notes for the follow up article. She was _not_ under any circumstances listening to the rise and fall of his voice and thinking about the very fine figure he cut in his suit.

Nope.

That was not what was happening.

Notes would have sold that story better, _not_ that there was a story to tell, but if anybody asked she could easily cite the clearly labeled folders on her laptop since driving Caroline crazy only ever extended to her desk and packing habits.

She could have recited his platform in her sleep.

And if she bit her lip it was because she wanted to commit the televised interview to memory. It was _not_ because he liked to gesture with his hands and she couldn't stop thinking about the way those long fingers liked to deliberately graze her palm at every turn.

Nope.

Her skin was _not_ tingling with memory.

She was _not_ subtly rubbing her thighs together because three nights ago they sat beside each other at a dinner where she gleefully let him tease her and ruin yet another pair of underwear. She was _not_ imagining those hands stealing under her skirt.

And she was _not_ conjuring up wild dreams of what they could do to each other if they ever managed to get a little privacy.

Okay…

Maybe she _was_ thinking about that last one, but in her defence it had been three months. Three damn months had passed since she joined the campaign trail. Three months had trickled by with all the speed of poured molasses while they flirted, while they teased, while he strung her higher than a kite.

_"Many comments are being made on your accent."_

She tuned into the onscreen interview again as they wound down and approached the human interest portion that the entire country denied they eagerly awaited, though as far as juicy gossip went this morsel wasn't that good.

" _I've heard a few of them,"_ Kol chuckled.

And damn that laugh did things to her.

" _According to all of my sources you were born in Northern Virginia, contrary to some commenters suggestions that you were not."_

_"I can guess where those rumours came from."_

Elena could guess too. There were some opponents who thought they could knock him out of the presidential race by insinuating he wasn't actually American, and she knew precisely which one. She also knew that the one starting that rumour knew how false it was.

_"… but I assure you, Mark, I'm as American as you."_

_"Can I ask how you came by the accent?"_

_"It's not much of a story,"_ Kol shrugged, smiling that damn adorable smile that made him look so much younger. _"My parents wanted the best education for us…"_

"More like wanted you out of the house," Elena muttered so low nobody could hear. She was still upset with Mikael and Esther's decision twenty years after they ripped apart her childhood friendship. Luckily she got to reconnect with Rebekah and after everything they were stronger than before, but there had been years where she missed the blonde like crazy and thought their letter correspondence wouldn't sustain them.

_"They sent my siblings and I to an elite boarding school in the United Kingdom when we were young. Each of us attended until graduation and all of my siblings with the exception of one of my older brothers caught the accent. Haven't been able to shake it. We often joke about it actually. Elijah never lost his own accent, yet he spent more time in the UK than any of us."_

She tried to hear Kol's signature 'darling' with a heavy southern drawl and giggled.

"Something funny Elena?"

Her eyes snapped to the campaign manager and she shook her head. "Nah Josh, I'm just imagining Kol with a Virginian accent."

"As fun as that sounds," he rolled his eyes, "don't you have an article to write. I'm sure your publication isn't paying you to stand around and watch the news."

"It's already written," she waved one hand.

"Including the new information you just heard?"

"That's hardly knew information," Elena shrugged, straightening up. "The Mikaelson siblings attended Westminster School London and spent summers and holidays at the family mansion in Mystic Falls, Virginia. Before that they each attended Mystic Falls Elementary School."

"That's more information then the Senator has ever given," his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, well," Elena tucked her hair behind her ear, "he also has never said he once set off a glitter bomb in his little sister's bedroom during a slumber party and put frogs in his oldest brother's cereal." She had no issue telling the tales of his pranks to Josh. Outside of the polaroids she kept in a shoebox under her childhood bed there was no physical proof and even if the stories got out they would only serve to make him appear endearing.

And she did _not_ think he was endearing.

Nope.

She was _not_ still laughing about the things he used to do in the summers before growing up. She was not thinking about the time he dumped Klaus' paints over Rebekah's hair and looked at her when she tried not to laugh.

"Is he giving you exclusive interviews or something?" Josh's brows rose.

Phantom hands grasped her hips as ghostly touches grazed the column of her throat. She would not label _that_ an interview, no matter how telling it was.

"I'm from Mystic Falls," she explained. "His sister is one of my best friends and technically I've known him since I was five."

"I take it your editor didn't know that."

"Not the details," Elena tilted her head. From the corner of her eye she saw the interview wrapping up and turned her head to catch the last question.

 _"Anyone new in your life?"_ The way the question was phrased made it very clear what was really being asked.

" _I meet new people on a daily basis with the campaign trail, but I sense that's not the question you're asking."_

_"You got me. There's been a lot of curiosity lately."_

Lately was an understatement. People had been snooping around since his last long term relationship; not that Mary could really be considered long term.

_"So anyone new?"_

_"No,"_ Kol's eyes flickered beyond his interviewer and directly into the camera until she felt certain he knew he held her gaze, " _there is nobody_ new."

Elena ducked her head and stared at the empty legal pad, hoping her hair covered whatever blush stained her cheeks. "I should go get to work."

She slipped into a dimly lit hallway and shut the door, leaning against it as she did. She had just managed to get her heart under control when a smooth voice interrupted what she had thought to be solitude.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or are we finally alone?"

Her skin tingled as he moved closer and stopped a few inches away. She felt his body heat before she looked up through her eyelashes.

"It's the main hallway in a major campaign headquarters," she whispered, and her fingers were _not_ smoothing down his tie. "I wouldn't count on being alone for long."

"Oh," he sighed, "so I don't have enough time to wrap you around my body and have my wicked way with you."

"Probably not," she meant for her voice to be exasperated, but it may have come out breathless as she imagined digging her heels into lower back and her fingers into his perfectly styled hair.

She cleared her throat and found her voice - the one that wasn't indicative of the hot mess he made of her insides.

"I would hate to be the one caught defiling the baby of the house."

"I hate that that name stuck." He groaned, chuckling as he covered her hip with his hand.

"That's what you get for being the youngest member ever elected," she teased, moving her hand to smooth a non-existent wrinkle from his suit.

"There are younger members than me now." His gaze flickered between her laughing eyes and parted lips.

"Maybe," she conceded, "but you're the youngest ever, and it doesn't help that you look young."

"You're not about to call me boyish are you?"

She shrugged, smiling from ear to ear. "You look it in every interview. Young," she reached up, trailing a finger over his jaw, "fresh faced… boyish…"

"I assure you darling," he caught her wrist, twisting it to press a hot kiss to the sensitive skin, "that there is nothing remotely 'boyish' about me."

"Really?" She shivered, letting her legal pad fall. It hit the floor with a soft thud. "Cause I have this picture in my head of a scrawny kid switching out the sugar for salt and catching a picture of his big brother's faces."

"Scrawny?" He gasped, mock offence etched in every inch of his face.

"Thin arms," she nodded, "bony knees, and hair that sticks up in every direction. And of course that constant smirk that said trouble. I'm sure you remember me just as fondly."

"I see a little girl with perfect curls and huge brown eyes, somehow always looking like a doll. Until she fell in the mud, anyway. I don't recall you ever being scrawny."

"You were at an elite boarding school and missed that phase," her eyes sparkled. "And I remember you pushing me in the mud."

"Technically I pulled," he tilted his head. "You pushed me."

"You pushed Rebekah," she smiled, "I had to avenge my friend. And you were really skinny, so easy to push."

"I assure you darling," his voice dropped half an octave as he pressed her palm to his abdomen, "there's nothing scrawny about me now."

And she did _not_ bite her lip because she could feel those abs that were still oh so lickable.

"Shall I show you?" Amusement danced in his eyes.

"Here?" Her fingers hooked in his belt loops. "And have the future President arrested for public indecency? Press will have a field day."

"Only if we get caught," he breathed, catching her chin with his finger.

His nose brushed hers and it would have been nothing to close that last inch, but before she could a door clicked down the hall and they were forced to separate.

He cleared his throat when there was a respectable distance between them and caught her dark eyes. "I can't believe you'd bring all that up."

"That's what happens when you surround yourself with _not new_ people," she winked, hurrying to walk around him.

* * *

She hooked her right leg over her left after toeing off the heel. It wasn't like the bottom of her shoes were filthy, but there was always the chance that enough dust had collected to leave a telling line, and she couldn't have that. Physical evidence wasn't the point of teasing.

"So Elena," Josh caught her attention from across the table, "did you get your article finished?"

"Almost," she smiled her sweetest smile. In that moment, at this dinner, Josh was her new best friend, even if he didn't know it. The seat he had snagged was the one she normally took, and while her skin ached for the covert touches that left her panting and barely able to string a sentence together sitting across the table had its own unique advantages.

And he was about to experience first hand what he had spent three months putting her through.

"I've got a couple of things left to proofread and then it goes off to my editor," she cut a small piece off her chicken and popped it in her mouth.

"And I suppose you threw a few of those other details in," he grinned, taking a drink.

"Other details," Kol cocked an eyebrow, "what sort of details?"

"The truly sordid ones," she let her eyes flicker over his features.

"What did you tell him?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"She might have mentioned a glitter bomb, and something about frogs," Josh laughed. "You didn't tell me you two knew each other."

"Elena and I go way back," Kol took a drink.

"We do," she nodded, letting her toes make contact with his thigh. The response she got was priceless and as close to dropped composure as she would ever get in public, and she wanted to make his eyes pop open again. "Kol and I go all the way back to knobby knees and skinned elbows."

He swallowed and caught her ankle, but her flexible toes curled and gently stroked his length.

"Knobby knees, huh?" Josh leaned an elbow on the table.

"I refuse to believe I ever had knobby knees," Kol shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. He brought his hand up to the table and focused on cutting his food into bitesized pieces.

And if he held the knife a little tighter then strictly necessary nobody mentioned it.

Just like she didn't mention how feeling him harden beneath her toes was having the same effect his hand had on her thigh.

"Deny all you like Mikaelson," she bit the corner of her bottom lip, "but I've got pictures."

"Let this be a lesson to you Josh," his brow lowered as he caught Elena in his gaze, "never start a potentially life long friendship with a journalist." He turned, giving his campaign manager a quick wink as he stage whispered. "They keep everything."

"And twenty-eight years later write a tell-all detailing the time he pelted me with paint filled water balloons," she raised her glass in salute.

"In defence," he held out his hands, "the paint was water based and it was really hot that day."

"I was wearing white," she gasped with a dramatic little shriek. And no, she was _not_ thinking about her retaliation and the way the coloured water had beaded on his bare chest. "Everybody could see through my sundress."

"I replaced that dress…"

"Because Rebekah made you," her eyes sparkled while her toes applied a light pressure to his length.

"And you were wearing a bathing suit underneath," he leaned across the table, gesturing to her with his fork, "it's not like anybody saw your underwear."

"How old were you two when this happened?" Josh tilted his head.

"They had to have been kids," Marcel joined in, grinning from ear to ear on Kol's other side. "Must have been back when you had those knobby knees."

"I don't know," Cami tilted her head, casting her eyes from Kol to Elena. "Water balloons sounds more like adolescent antics, maybe pre-adolescent."

Dishes clinked as a busboy scurried behind them.

"Well," Marcel prompted.

"Oh," Elena tipped her head back in thought. It had been so long ago, but she distinctly remembered the warm tingling feeling that she had _not_ gotten when he tore off his soaked t-shirt. "When was that?"

"It was after that year you shot up four inches and started dating that Salvatore," he supplied, mouth twisting on the name.

"Right," Elena nodded. "I was seventeen, and you were nineteen," she levelled her fork in his direction and turned her head towards Cami. "I'm guessing that's a little old to be pelting the baby sister and her besties with water balloons."

"A little," Cami laughed. "Tell me you at least gave as good as you got."

"Oh, I _gave,_ " she grinned, pressing down with her toes. His thigh clenched under her heel. "Rebekah, Caroline and I got hold of his ammunition and drenched him from head to toe," she lifted her eyebrows. "Then he shoved Rebekah in the pool."

"I was out of water balloons," he shrugged.

Elena was pretty sure she saw his jaw pull with strain, so she eased the pressure and reigned it in to the lightest of touches that resulted in little more than a tickle; and dammit, if that tickle didn't travel straight up her own leg.

"Water balloons, frogs, glitter…" Marcel tilted his head.

"Don't forget the sugar/salt incident," Elena chimed in.

"So, what I'm hearing," Marcel leaned back and steepled his fingers, " is that you were _that_ kid."

"What kid?" Kol's brows lowered, but the smile stayed on his lips.

"A little shit," Cami supplied, and from anyone else it probably would have come off as an insult but the psychologist said it with affection.

"I was not a little shit," Kol scoffed.

"I've got a handful of people on speed dial who can confirm that you were," Elena grinned, making to reach for her cell phone.

"Leave my siblings out of this," he rolled his eyes, "and I'll admit that I maybe, just maybe, I was that kid."

"You were that kid," she tilted her head, "and the only reason you wanna leave Rebekah out of it is because she'll tell stories from boarding school that prove my point. Also I've got more than your siblings; Bonnie and Caroline would gladly take the stand."

"How has none of what you know found its way to the masses?" Marcel shook his head.

"Because we're friends," Kol kept his eyes on Elena.

"Surprising after everything, that I assume is just the tip of the iceberg," Cami waved a hand between them, "you did to her."

"Like I said," Elena smirked, "I always gave as good as I got. And it wasn't all bad."

"No?" Josh toyed with his water glass.

"Nah," she nodded. "He did help me study for my SATs and stepped in when my escort pulled a disappearing act during the town pageant."

"Did you win?" Marcel asked.

"My friend Caroline did," Elena shook her head. "She was more qualified, though I think Kol's abysmal dancing is what really knocked me out of the running."

"Excuse me," he scoffed, "I'm a wonderful dancer. And I think I excelled at the _near touch_ ," his fingers traced the air just above her ankle, "and flirting with the eyes."

"You sound like Mrs. Lockwood," she laughed. "He also taught me how to cook a decent meal that wouldn't give my boyfriend food poisoning."

"If I'd known back then that it was for Salvatore," his mouth twisted again, "I wouldn't have bothered."

"I take it you didn't like this boyfriend," Marcel caught the second grimace.

"Salvatore?" Cami mused. "Damon Salvatore? Your opponent?"

"Those two have been competing for years," Elena took a drink of water, "but it was Damon's younger brother Stefan."

"Not that I liked Damon much either," Kol swirled his drink in his glass. "He always looked at you in a way that I didn't like."

"You almost sound jealous," Cami laughed.

"Damon was an ass," Elena blinked slowly. Something had gone down between one of her best friends and Damon, and though Caroline never went into details about it she had gotten the sense that it was really bad. The second her friend told her she had broken things off with him and was happy she hadn't been involved long enough to gain deep feelings. He was the definition of a two-faced politician and the basis for her rule.

She was pretty sure that rule was out the window; assuming it had even gone with her onto the bus.

"Speaking from experience?" Cami tilted her head.

"Two dates, and during each one he ordered for me," her eyes narrowed at the memories. She had given him a second chance after the first date went badly, blaming it on what she thought were first date jitters, but after the second when she had opened up to Caroline and let the name, that her best friend confirmed was the ass from high school, out she stopped taking Damon's calls. "Let me correct myself. Damon _is_ an ass."

"Bring it into the present tense," Marcel nodded.

"Something about that guy's face in interviews just makes me cringe," Josh agreed.

"Might I suggest a toast to knocking him out of the race," Elena raised her glass.

"I'll drink to that," Kol clinked glasses with her, holding her gaze over the crystal as everyone drank.

"Shouldn't you actually knock him out of the race first?" Cami asked, reaching for her own glass and staring at the wine.

"Here's to _soon_ knocking him out of the race," Elena amended.

Her abdomen clenched with the whispered promise in his eyes. She thought maybe, just maybe, her words referred to more than politics.

Dinner continued with a side of light teasing through dessert until she had to lower her foot and replace her shoe. She rose from the table in a single, fluid, motion with the rest of the party and had to bite her cheek to keep her smirk hidden when Kol remained in his seat.

"Are you coming, or spending the night at the restaurant?" Marcel cocked his head to the side.

"Just finishing my drink, mate." The look he shot her promised torment as he reached for his glass.

"Looks more like you're nursing it," Elena said, licking her bottom lip. She lifted her jacket from her chair and slipped it on.

"Well, darling, this bourbon is amazing," he sipped the amber liquid and made a show of appreciating it. "Truly astounding."

"Enjoy it then," Josh rolled his eyes and laughed while gesturing towards Cami and Marcel, "we've got competitor speeches to go over."

"And by that, he means that I do," Cami winked at Elena. "Got to find their weak points."

"So what do these two do?" Elena stage whispered, pointing rather obviously to the pair of them.

"Verbally insult the competition, drink expensive liquor and make my job ten times harder and infinitely more fun." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "It's not a bad way to spend a Thursday evening. You wanna join us?"

"While that sounds like it would be highly amusing, and the chance to insult Damon Salvatore with like minded people is always welcome, I've actually got a little work of my own to finish up."

"Then perhaps you'd like to drive with me instead," Kol suggested. He stood from the table and folded his jacket over his arm to hold in front of his body while everyone watched Elena for a reaction.

"You're gonna go way out of your way to drop her off at her hotel?" Marcel tilted his head.

Elena smiled softly.

"Since we've been in Washington the last few days and we'll be here for at least another week, Rebekah offered me her apartment so I didn't have to stay in a hotel. And since I was getting really sick of take out I jumped at the chance to have a full kitchen again."

"And it had absolutely nothing to do with the king size bed, rain shower and jacuzzi tub," Kol cocked an eyebrow.

"I never denied the tub was a draw," she bit her lip as she smiled. "That thing would fit three people in it and has this sort of waterfall feature," she looked at Cami while waving her hand in a sweeping arc. "Plus Bekah's got the most amazing selection of scented candles, bubble baths and epsom salts, plus wine that I am encouraged to drink."

"Damn," Cami breathed, casting her blue eyes to Kol. "Do you think I can stay at your sister's place? It beats my airbnb."

"And the hotel by a mile," Elena nodded.

"You'd have to take that up with Rebekah," he nodded to Cami, "and it's not out of my way. It's very much in my way."

"Rebekah lives on the floor below him," Elena explained, "at least when she's in town."

"In that case, I guess we'll leave you in Kol's capable hands," Marcel clapped him on the shoulder.

Elena lifted her eyes to stare up at the chandelier and bit her lip. "I suppose that would save me the cab, or asking any of you to go out of your way."

"Elena," Kol offered his arm, nodding to the others as they said goodbye.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and set off through the restaurant at a sedentary walk. Ahead of them Marcel held open the door for Cami. Josh stepped out last and the three of them disappeared down the street.

They weren't far behind them and Kol steered her to walk up the street.

"Where did you park?" She rubbed her fingers in tight circles, feeling the tension in his coiled muscles.

His only answer was to take a sharp step to the left. He pulled her with him, yanking her almost violently to his body as his mouth covered hers hungrily.

And if another option existed outside of submitting to the cruel ravishment of her mouth she didn't see it. And quite frankly she wasn't sure she would have taken it because the way his tongue dominated hers made her toes curl in her high heels.

Not that he was affecting her.

Nope.

And she wasn't clinging to his shirt for dear life.

Through her jacket she felt the impact of stone and the scratch of brick snagging her hair. The kisses shifted from punishing to searching, and she moaned into his mouth.

He ground against her hip and it was not having an affect on her.

No siree, no affect whatsoever.

She was most definitely not aroused enough to be dripping.

At least that was the story if Rebekah got wind of the incident and asked. But when he kissed her she definitely kissed him back, if only to see what it was like.

Why had it taken them so long to kiss?

Of course that excuse only worked the first time. She couldn't rationalize or deny how she carded her fingers through his short hair and hooked her leg around his waist.

She gasped for air, letting it fill her burning lungs the moment he pushed her further into the wall.

She had a sinking suspicion she would merge with the building material if she didn't merge with him and merging with him sounded like more fun.

"Kol," she panted, biting her bottom lip.

He bit her throat in response, and that did get a response she could never deny. Her throaty moan could not be written off.

There was also going to be a mark on her throat.

Thank God for Caroline's obsessive packing that resulted in half a dozen stylish scarves.

"Kol," she whimpered, rolling her hips. His length pressed deliciously against her. "I should really get back."

"That eager to get away?" He growled, and damn if it didn't make her want to rip off his pristine white shirt and use that freaking tie to shut him up for a while. On second thought she might need two; one for his mouth and one for his hands.

Then again, she could use his belt for his hands. Or his tie for his hands and her ruined panties to shut him up; he'd probably love knowing just what he did to her body.

"I've got some work to do," she ground down. Her hand held the back of his neck as she breathed hotly against his ear. "I thought you could look over my article."

"Is that what you want me to look over?" He nipped at her ear.

"Amongst other things."


	3. June 4, 2020 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains smut  
> Also hopeless idiots completely in love with each other

His strong hands claimed her waist the moment the elevator doors closed, pulling at her body.

“I suppose you’re proud of this?” His erection ground against her ass.

She could feel the pulsing heat through the layers of fabric.

“You’ve been turning me on and leaving me unsatisfied for weeks,” she glanced over her shoulder and through her lashes, “so yeah,” she purred, grinding, “I am a little proud.”

“I apologize, love,” the tip of his nose nuzzled her neck, “I appear to have lacked the time to see anything through.”

“You better have it tonight,” she tilted her head for his kisses, “my vibrator is getting tired. And I want something other than my own hand.”

“Have I left you that high strung?” His tongue darted out, tasting her flesh.

“You’ve left me so…” she pressed her lips together when he sucked just below her ear. “So… so fucking high. Last week I had to sneak off to the bathroom at HQ because I was ready to crawl out of my skin.”

“Head quarters,” he glanced up, watching the rising numbers. Only a few floors were left, but he couldn’t wait.

He lifted his hands from her waist and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Kol,” she scolded. Her lace bra peaked out.

“Relax, darling,” he chuckled, unbuttoning to her naval. “The top three floors consist of the penthouse, Rebekah’s flat and an empty rental.”

Her eyelashes fluttered; she caught a glimpse of them in the polished doors. Her blouse hung open from her shoulders, exposing her taut stomach and full breasts.

“Unfasten your trousers,” he nipped at her ear, holding her reflection’s gaze.

She complied quickly, popping the button and letting the zipper fall. The matching thong poked out, midnight blue and little more than a damp triangle after dinner.

“Let them fall,” he palmed her breasts over her bra, finding and rolling her hard nipples.

The sensation of his lips against her neck sent her brain into a tailspin; she barely registered stepping out of the wide legs in her high heels.

Kol knelt behind her, dragging her blouse with him and pressing soft kisses to her spine. He rose with her grey pants in his hand and squeezed her ass as the doors slid open.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, watching as he walked backwards with her clothes.

“You might want to get out of there, darling,” he let his eyes roam over her body, appreciating every angle he could see. “I’d hate for anybody else to see you like this.”

The thought of being caught in the elevator in her underwear by a bunch of random strangers sent her into the penthouse on fast feet. Her heels clicked over the floor. She followed him to the couch where he dropped her clothes and purse.

Her eyes flickered around the space, taking in the books on the built in shelves and the series of photographs lining the fireplace. A small frame caught her eye and the fact that she was in her underwear left her mind.

“Is that what I think it is?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond and lifted the frame from the mantle. Dark wood held two panes of glass in place, pressing a single white daisy flat.

_‘What’s this?’ The corner of his mouth quirked up as he lifted the flower from between her thumb and finger._

_‘My way of saying thanks for stepping in at the pageant,’ she shrugged._

_‘For the record, guys don’t typically like getting flowers.’_

“I thought you didn’t like it, and that it was a stupid gesture.” She traced her nail over the petals.

He plucked the frame from her hands, smiling at the flower. “I said ‘guys’ and ‘typically’, and no gesture from you has ever been stupid.”

With the pressed flower safely on the mantle he grabbed her hips and started walking her backwards.

“Okay,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving her feet as she did, “so you didn’t hate it. But why did you keep it?”

“You gave it to me,” he shrugged, pressing her against cold glass. “I couldn’t let it wither.”

She shivered, wriggling on the floor to ceiling window. Thankfully there were no other buildings as tall and someone would have to be looking to actually see her naked body; not that she was naked… yet.

He cupped her jaw between his large hands and closed the distance, kissing her again. The pressure and motion of his lips were surprisingly gentle and sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl.

She pulled off his tie and reached for the top button of his shirt, eager to feel his skin.

His fingers slid down her back, popping the catch on her bra, and she had to lower her arms so he could slide the straps off. Midnight lace hit the floor with a whisper as he took the blue tie from her loose hold.

When she reached for his buttons he grabbed her arms.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Not yet,” he chuckled. The sound sent a tingle down her spine. And when he pushed her arms behind her back and secured his tie around her elbows she whimpered. “Is that too tight?”

“No,” she sank her teeth into her bottom lip and looked up through her lashes, “it’s good… I’m good.”

He smiled wide as she nodded out her consent and tweaked her nipples, twisting until she gasped. “I don’t know that I’d call you good after tonight’s little stunt.”

“And what would you call you after the last three months?” She tilted her head, fluttering her lashes.

“Oh, I’m the devil in disguise, love,” his lips skimmed her collarbone. Between his hands and his mouth her breasts were worshipped in a way that she had never been worshipped before.

She rolled her hips in search of non-existent friction.

“Talk to me,” he caught her eyes as he knelt and pulled her thong over her legs.

“About how horny you’re making me?” She hooked her leg over his shoulder at his urging, shutting her eyes when he kissed her inner thigh.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea how horny I’m making you,” he chuckled, eyeing her glistening lips. “I want to know how I have affected you.”

“Who says you have?” She trembled, aching to grab the back of his head and press that smirk against her body, longing to find out just what he could do with that tongue he never seemed to keep still.

“You did,” his right hand curled around her leg, “when you mentioned the campaign headquarters, and your poor, sad vibrator. What did you do in that bathroom, love?”

“I tried to finish what you started,” she admitted. “I was wearing a skirt that day - the short blue one - so when you got called in for an interview after teasing me at lunch - and I knew the rest of the day you’d be busy - I ran in the bathroom.” She closed her eyes, remembering the moment clearly. Each filthy admission made her throb for attention. “I locked the door, dropped my bag and leaned against the sink.”

As she told the tale his fingers explored her skin, moving up to caress her butt and down to almost touch her arousal. On each pass he pressed a little harder until she could feel the lightest tingle between her legs and rocked her hips for more.

“I took off my underwear and stuffed them in my purse,” in hindsight she was a little surprised they hadn’t dropped out at some point later that day, “and I hiked my skirt up around my waist. Normally I like to take my time, but I was desperate and dripping so I gathered a little of the slick from my thighs, spread my legs even wider and shoved two fingers in my pussy.”

“Like this?” He thrust up with his fingers suddenly, making her breath catch in her throat.

“That’s better.” She groaned her approval. “Thicker.”

He chuckled.

She opened her eyes in time to see his left hand drop to his pants. He palmed the bulge there, but the digits inside her stayed perfectly still aside from moving back to keep her from taking in more of him.

“Kol,” she whined.

“What next, Elena?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave her that damn smirk. “Tell me how you pleasured yourself. Tell me,” he punctuated each word with a kiss to her thigh, “what you like.”

“I… I…” she squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to think. “I fingered myself and rubbed my clit.”

He thrust shallowly and applied the lightest of pressure to the swollen nub. It was maddening.

“Faster,” her abdomen clenched. “And harder.”

He picked up on her directions, following them as she ground them out through clenched teeth. She had gotten herself off a lot since joining the campaign, and each orgasm had satiated her until she caught his eyes the next morning, but somehow all of that tension built up as if it had never resolved in the first place.

“Faster, Kol,” she clenched her pussy, feeling his fingers stretching her wide. “I was desperate.”

“How desperate?” He whispered. “Tell me what you did.”

She swallowed. In her mind she saw her legs propped on the bathroom counter and felt the strain in her arm from the repetitive motions. Her hand moved in a blur, fucking her sopping cunt hard and fast until the coil snapped; she told him that and threw her head against the window as he set to work.

His fingers drove into her pliant body at the speed of light, at least that was what it felt like and how she would later describe it to Caroline - without mentioning his name - and maybe Rebekah, until her thighs trembled.

She was close. She knew she was close. So close that she could taste the impending release like the sweetest chocolate held out of reach by someone just tall enough to torment her.

She was ready. She was there.

And then she wasn’t.

His fingers left her and she moaned, chasing his retreat. Her breathing slowly levelled out as she glared down at him.

“Has anybody ever told you you’re a tease?”

“With you I just can’t resist,” he sucked his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of every drop. “You should expect a lot of teasing, darling, because I have no intention of rushing this evening. What did you think about?”

“Just a minute ago?” She tilted her head, smiling. “I was considering murder. I know places in Mystic Falls they’d never find the body.”

“We both do,” he chuckled. “I meant in the bathroom. And every other time you let your vibrator do what you should have come to me for.”

“Oh that,” she clicked her tongue. If her high school or college boyfriends had asked her to speak about such things she might have blushed and stammered, and eventually laughed and shaken her head. It was different with him. And maybe after so many years of friendship she shouldn’t have been, but she was comfortable. She trusted him.

“I thought about you,” she managed a half-shrug, encumbered by the bindings. “I thought about all the things I wanted to do to you, and all of the things I wanted you to do to me. Usually - when you never stop talking - I imagined putting that tongue to better use.”

“How odd?” His eyes sparkled. “I was just thinking about putting my tongue to use.”

His touch was light and painfully teasing, and she was not thinking about tying him to one of those bar stools she could see in the kitchen. She was not thinking about kissing every inch of his body until his cock wept for attention and he begged her for release. She was definitely not thinking about making him watch as she got herself off while he strained and squirmed.

And okay… maybe she was.

His right hand stole up her abdomen until his fingers fondled her swollen nipple. Just when she was ready to start begging he lowered his head and licked a long line through her slit.

She shifted her hips, grinding against his face when he began thrusting his tongue in and out. And she was pretty sure she could see stars behind her eyelids.

Time lost meaning while he devoured her until one hard suck on her clit sent her over the edge and she came, sobbing his name.

He lowered her leg to the floor and she felt her knees wobble dangerously.

He stood up and stepped back, smirking as her lidded eyes watched him unbutton his shirt. He let it fall, careless of the wrinkles, and unfastened his belt.

Her eyes darkened and she bit her lip. Her arms strained against the silk, itching to reach out and finish his excruciating strip tease.

“In case it isn’t obvious, Elena,” he popped the button on his trousers, slowly dropping them and toeing off his shoes and socks, “I want you.”

His boxer briefs followed and his cock stood at attention, pointing directly at her.

“I’m, uh…” Her eyes widened and she swallowed, licking her lips, “I’m starting to see that.”

“I can’t tell you how many nights I jerked off thinking about you, and those little skirts you like to wear.” He reached into his pants pocket for a square of foil and opened the package. “How many times I’ve imagined bending you over the nearest flat surface and taking you, onlookers be damned. Or how many restaurant restrooms I nearly followed you into.”

Her belly clenched tight as he approached. His arms circled around her back and removed the restraint so her hands could close around his neck.

“This is probably the wrong take away,” she whispered, trailing one hand down his chest to his covered cock, “but when did you start carrying a condom in your pocket?”

“The evening you spread your legs during dinner with my family,” his hands explored her sides, roaming from her hips to her full breasts and down to cup her behind.

“I feel like that makes me sound like a slut,” she pressed her lips to his collarbone and kissed every inch of skin she could reach.

“I was all but fingering you under the table,” he turned his head, kissing her ear. “Whats that make me?”

“A man whore,” she teased, giggling into the hollow of his throat.

“You’re not slutty,” he caught the back of her thighs and lifted.

“I let you finger me at various restaurants, strip me in the elevator and eat me out pressed up against this window,” she pointed out. “I’m a little slutty.”

“Promiscuous,” he kissed her cheek, “and risqué,” he kissed her other cheek, “are both far better adjectives.”

“What about desirable?” She played with the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

“That one is a given,” he smirked. “You, Miss Elena Gilbert, are so desirable, that I am considering having you right here, right now. Pressed up against this window until all you can see is me, and maybe the lights of capitol hill.”

“Then do it,” she whispered, snaking a hand between their bodies to line up his cock with her entrance. “Because I can’t wait any longer.”

He nodded once and thrust upwards, sinking half of his length into her.

“Ahh,” she squeezed her eyes shut as her body spasmed around him.

“Shit,” he swore, immediately stilling. “Are you okay?” He cupped her jaw and gently swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. When she didn’t say anything his heart thundered in his ears. “Elena, are you okay?”

She breathed heavily through her nose and worked on relaxing her muscles. He was bigger than she had thought and even though she was well prepared the sudden stretch took her by surprise.

“I’m okay,” she nodded, blinking away her tears.

“You’re crying,” he shook his head, trying to pull back out. Her tightly curled legs kept him from getting far. “Do you need to stop?”

“I just need a second,” she whispered. “Distract me?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before catching his lips in a kiss.

“Elena,” he grunted, pulling back a few inches. “I am not doing this until I know you’re alright.” His body shook with the need to drive into her until she screamed his name. “I don’t want you to think you have to be fine if you’re not. We don’t have to do this.”

“I wanna do this,” she met his eyes. Already it was getting a little easier. “I just… well I… I haven’t…”

“This isn’t your first time is it?” Horror flooded his eyes. “I wouldn’t have… well,” he nodded down. “I thought…”

“Kol,” she pressed her fingers to his mouth, “chill. It’s not my first time.” Her first time had been in high school with Stefan, and it was okay but nothing compared to what Kol had done moments ago with his tongue. “It’s just been a… well a little while since I… since I took anything bigger than… well than this,” she held up two fingers as evidence.

“Oh,” he relaxed a little.

“Yeah,” she nodded. Then her head turned slightly. “Wait a minute. Were you about to say you wouldn’t have wanted to have sex with my if it was my first time?”

“Of course not,” he shook his head. “I just wouldn’t have done it like this.” He pulled out of her and set her down before scooping her into his arms.

He carried her through the penthouse into a darker room where the lights barely penetrated the heavy curtains. Inside, he laid her out on what had to be his bed and flicked on a lamp; just enough light to see each other as he hovered over her body.

“I would have brought you in here,” he kissed her softly and carefully slipped back into her warmth.

She opened her legs wider for his hips, grunting into his mouth. With each sound of discomfort he eased backwards and took a shallow thrust forward again.

“I would have spent hours,” he breathed against her parted lips, “ _hours_ bringing you pleasure, you would never find the words to describe, with my mouth and hands before I finally did this.”

When he stilled Elena realized he had fully sheathed himself inside of her without her realizing. She moaned, enjoying the delicious stretch of her pussy spread to her limit and decided that anyone bigger would be too much while anyone smaller just wouldn’t do.

“Does it still hurt?” His cool breath blew over her neck.

“No,” she shook her head, lifting her hips to meet him.

He took the hint and began a slow, steady, pace of long thrusts.

She didn’t think anybody had ever taken the time to draw out the act of love making. If she were really to consider it then it wasn’t until that moment she would have labeled their actions as such. All of her previous lovers were always eager for release, and even when there was genuine feelings of love involved they tended to rush the act; half of the time she had to finish herself off, or they would finish her with their hands.

Having sex, fucking, screwing, doing it, bumping uglies, taking a trip to pound town, and feeding the kitty (Caroline’s personal favourite in high school) were all phrases she had heard and had directed at her in the past, but none described her current situation.

No, she never would have called it love making before, but there was simply no other way to describe the tantalizingly slow thrusts and languid kisses.

Which was odd because they didn’t love each other.

Well, technically they did love each other, but they didn’t _love_ each other.

Did they?

So maybe he was her first crush, and he liked to ogle her teenage body to the point that Rebekah screamed at him to leave her friend alone, but they didn’t _love_ each other.

Did they?

They were certainly attracted to one another, and after twenty-five years they loved each other, but they didn’t _love_ each other.

Did they?

She cared about him. He cared about her. But they didn’t _love_ each other.

Did they?

She shook her thoughts off before she could cry because it was not her first time and she was not going to cry like a teenage girl; not even if it suddenly felt like her first time.

She supposed it was her first time with him.

Slowly, tortuously slowly, they shifted pace until he thrust into her with the speed she knew how to label, but still the only phrase she could describe it with was love making.

Her body coiled with sensations she understood and with then she felt a strong desire to feel more of him.

So she did.

She carded her fingers through his short hair and drew his mouth from her jiggling breasts. With a quick tug his body fully covered hers and she was able to kiss him.

They molded together, the only barrier the protection he wore. Any closer and she thought that maybe, just maybe they would actually become one.

That didn’t sound so bad.

Pressed close he wasn’t able to make the deep thrusts that had driven her wild, but the short ones were faster and just what she needed. The moment her body began to writhe under his he picked up his speed, prolonging her release as he chased his own.

The sound of his name on her lips sent him over the edge and he came, dropping her name against her skin as a revered prayer.

She trembled as he withdrew and watched through half closed eyes as he disposed of the condom and lifted a soft grey blanket to cover them.

Tired and spent though she was, she still noted the way his arm shook.

“Was that everything you’d been waiting for?” His smirk lacked when he caught her eyes and sleepy smile.

She wondered if he meant his chuckle to deflect from the emotion swimming in his gaze. She decided to let him keep his peace for now and shifted a little to snuggle into his slick chest.

“I wish that had been my first time,” her voice rose as a murmur, lightly teasing; seventy-five percent serious. “Much better than my actual first time.”

“If I had been your first I would have been your only,” he murmured against her hair, so quiet she wasn’t sure she had actually heard the words.

So naturally she needed clarification; it was the journalist in her.

“What was that?” Her brows scrunched.

“I said, ‘you should start taking the pill because next time I have you I don’t want any barriers between us’,” his fingers gently stroked her arm.

“Wow,” she pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to his heart, “I must have missed a lot of syllables.”

“I’m just that good that I shut off your brain for a minute.”

 _Okay,_ Elena smiled softly, _now he’s definitely deflecting._

“What makes you think there will be a next time?” She looked up through her lashes with a coy smile on her lips.

Kol’s smirk turned genuine when he lifted her chin.

“What makes you think there won’t be a next time?” His thumb caught her lip. “You give me a chance to recover and I’ll have you again before morning.”

“Hmm,” she kissed the pad of his thumb. “How about in the morning? You really wore me out.”

“I suppose that can be arranged,” his smirk shifted to a gentle smile.

She propped her chin on his chest and traced some light scars on his ribs left over from when they fell out of Rebekah’s tree house that had technically been Freya’s and probably not structurally sound by the time her youngest siblings took their friend inside.

“In the morning,” she breathed, counting quickly in her head to make sure, “you don’t need a barrier.”

“No?” His brows rose.

“Mm mm,” she shook her head. “I’ve been on _the_ pill since high school, so we’re good. Unless,” she lightly scratched his skin and bit her lip, “we need that for another reason?”

“I’d rather not be a father just yet.” He shook his head. “Is there another reason?”

“No,” she blinked and pressed a kiss to his chest. She bit her cheek, deliberately not telling him about the terrifying scare Rebekah had and the solidarity test she undertook for his sister.

“Okay,” he stretched to kiss her forehead.

“Okay,” she closed her eyes, hugging his body with one arm, “g’night.”

“You sure you don’t wanna go again now?” He kissed the top of her head.

“Worn out,” she punctuated the statement with a yawn.

“Quick catnap?”

She giggled and sat up on her elbow just enough so she could kiss him: long and slow and deep. Then she settled back into his arms.

“Good night, Kol.”

“Good night, Elena.”


	4. June 11/25, 2020

**June 11, 2020**

* * *

Elena took a deep breath, holding it in as though that might stop her foot jiggling.

While she stared pointedly at the red nail polish decorating her toes, Cami lightly tapped her pen against her thigh. She studied the shoes and found nothing interesting enough to hold the brunette's attention for the prolonged period she watched them. The cute high heels geometric patterns, filled in some of the gaps between the sandal straps; Cami thought they might be Louis Vuitton's because of the red sole, but definitely nothing to stare at.

Not that she thought the journalist truly sat contemplating her shoes.

Elena fidgeted in place, reaching up with one hand to hook a finger under her grey scarf. Though fashionable and outfit completing, Cami would have never chosen the accessory in the sticky heat of mid June; the scarf would have been better served tied around the sleek black briefcase at her feet.

Elena's eyes shifted so suddenly that Cami inhaled a sharp breath. She turned her head to the left and stole what Cami suspected she meant to be a covert glance down the wide aisle.

She leaned on her elbow and followed Elena's line of sight. Almost everybody on the bus sat closer to the front, so when she looked back there were only two people she could possibly be looking at. She doubted it was Marcel. In fact she doubted that Elena could see anymore than Marcel's dark hands pointing out something in the folder Kol held because Cami could hardly see Marcel.

No, it wasn't Marcel. Elena's stolen glances had to be for Kol.

Cami glanced back to Elena, watching her play with the scarf before focusing again on Kol. Something was off with him that she doubted anyone else would have noticed.

In deference to the heat, and really it was stifling (why was it socially unacceptable to walk around in underwear?), Kol had removed his jacket, tie and rolled up his sleeves. He looked almost relaxed with the exception of his buttoned shirt.

She had seen him pop the top three buttons when it was hot enough, and it was hot enough.

Beyond hot enough.

Cami sat back gently waving her notebook in the hopes of gaining more of the poorly air-conditioned air. They really needed to see someone about fixing that soon, or maybe it was the ridiculous humidity of the day. She allowed Elena a few more covert glances before she spoke up, tilting her head enough so she caught Elena's dark eyes. "You two slept together."

"W-what?" Colour rose, staining her olive cheeks.

Cami pursed her lips and leaned ahead, bracing her arms on the arm rest. She motioned for Elena to follow her so their voices wouldn't carry.

"It's pushing 42 degrees with the air conditioning," she wiped a hand over her sweaty forehead, "and you're wearing a scarf."

Elena tugged on the ends subconsciously.

"That tells me you got a little freaky with someone," Cami glanced back down the aisle, "and you keep looking at Kol. So you two got it on, things got a little heated and he left a hickey, maybe more than one, that you couldn't cover with makeup." She smiled triumphantly when Elena pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes.

"Now Kol," she went on, "Kol, has done his best to remove as much cloth from his skin as possible, but his collar is still done up. Despite how well he cleans up on television, we all know he'd rather spend his down time in jeans and simple shirts that are open at the neck. If he's buttoned up then that tells me you gave as good as you got and he's sporting a few dark spots he wouldn't have the first idea how to conceal."

The corner of Elena's mouth quirked up until her face was overtaken by a proud grin.

"Is this the part where you tell me how many women came before, because I've got a decent idea," she played with her scarf.

"Everyone else was a fling based on nothing more than a physical attraction," Cami pursed her lips. "I don't know, but it's different now."

Elena wasn't some random woman he met and started a lighthearted affair with. They were friends who had known each other a long time, and she suspected the brunette jumped in his bed with her eyes wide open.

"I've never seen him let anyone he's sleeping with give him such a hard time," she leaned back in her seat, "none of them dared to tease him like you did at dinner the other night."

They were cute together, not that Cami would ever come out and say it, but they were. She had never seen him friendly and flirty at the same time, nor had she witnessed him looking at anybody with the adoration he directed at Elena when he thought she wasn't looking.

"You don't think that things are going to get awkward now, though?" Cami's brow wrinkled. "You two have known each other so long?"

"Is this the age old question?" Elena fiddled with a ring, twirling it around her finger. "Is it wise to get involved with friends?"

"I've always wondered," Cami shrugged. "When friends start hooking up it goes one of two ways. They realize either that they were never meant to be together like that and things gets super awkward, or they discover a connection that's been there all along, and maybe they were too afraid to explore it before. Or maybe life just got in the way and they were always meant to be lovers."

"You sound like you're talking about soulmates." Elena licked her bottom lip.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Cami tilted her head.

Elena pursed her lips, and it was clear the gears in her head were turning as she thought of the best way to phrase her response.

She wondered if she mentally wrote it out, and corrected bits with a red pen, as she would an article.

"No," she eventually breathed. "I don't believe in soulmates. I think that two people meet, and maybe they have an instant connection, but most of the time it's insane chemistry. They meet and they fall in love, and they work hard at a relationship."

"And what's your stance on dating friends?" Cami flipped through her notebook. "I had a friend in college, my best friend, and we decided to try dating. It went horribly and I haven't spoken to him in years."

"I think it depends on the friend," Elena rolled her ankle, "my first boyfriend was a good friend, and it didn't work out. We just weren't a good fit romantically, but I think being friends first is good for a relationship because you get to know the other person without sex clouding your judgement."

"So you were friends with all of your exes first?"

Elena snorted, actually snorted, and shook her head. "No," a laugh bubbled up in her voice.

"What about you two?" Cami dropped her tone again and glanced back to Kol. "You flirt like crazy, and apparently go at it like animals," she nodded to the scarf, "or at the very least horny teenagers. How come you two never dated?"

"I don't know," Elena shrugged, "maybe timing? We never seemed to be single at the same time. And if you're going to psychoanalyze me, shouldn't I be laying down?"

"I'm not psychoanalyzing you," Cami laughed, "and for the record I do believe in soulmates, but not the kind that popular culture likes to shove down our throats. I think a soulmate is your best friend, and so much more; its someone that knows you and accepts you and believes in you. Maybe before anybody else did. And no matter what happens, or how you and that person end up, you'll always love them in some way, and you always carry them with you."

"So…" Elena gestured with her fingers, "in your definition it's not romantic?"

"It can be, but it doesn't have to be," she shrugged, eyes glazing over. "I had one."

"Had?" Elena frowned.

"My twin brother knew me better than anybody."

"I'm sorry," she reached out and gave Cami's knee a light squeeze.

"It was a long time ago," she blinked.

"But you still miss him," Elena tilted her head.

"Yeah," Cami sniffed. She shook her head and forced on a cheery smile, unwilling to have a breakdown on the bus because she couldn't get her head away from the senseless violence that took Sean away from her. "Tell me about your shoes."

"My shoes?" Elena leaned back, biting her lip.

It was clear in her expression that she recognized the attempt at deflection, but she let Cami go on.

"Yeah," she looked down to the sandals. "How does a reporter afford Louis Vuitton?"

"Ah," she nodded. "Do you want the truth, or the tall tale about bank robbing and unnamed accomplices?"

"Let's go with the truth," Cami smiled.

"Rather boring," Elena warned, laughing softly. "They were a birthday present from Rebekah."

"She gave you Louis Vuitton sandals?" Cami gaped. "And she lets you stay in her swanky apartment?" Her brows rose. Though she suspected Elena hadn't actually been sleeping at Rebekah Mikaelson's place, at least not for the last couple of nights. "I need to be friends with this woman," she shook her head.

"Bekah's pretty awesome," Elena crossed her hands over her stomach. "She's really nice, and a great listener, and one of my best friends who only occasionally reminds me of my most embarrassing high school memories."

* * *

Three hours Elena fidgeted with her hands and the contents of her bag.

She got to the point where she dumped the contents of her briefcase onto the seat and organized everything based on the dewy decimal system. Then she obviously had to mess everything up again because there was no way she could ever let Caroline find out her briefcase had a system.

It would ruin making messes just to mess with her.

Once the documents and notebooks were suitably mixed up and she had to dig to find a pen, Marcel and Josh had made their way to the front of the campaign bus. With night darkening the interior she stood from her spot and ignored the way Cami's eyes sparkled.

She already had one smirk to put up with, and she didn't want another unless it came on an itty bitty face that promised mischief.

 _Woah girl,_ Elena slung her bag over her shoulder, freezing for a second The idea came out of nowhere, but once it was planted in her head she couldn't banish the image. Each step down the aisle further cemented the picture; she chose to blame him for looking up and smirking at her.

Those sparkling eyes and the damn perfect smirk.

It was definitely his fault, and maybe a little hers.

Stupid biological clock.

"Hey," she exhaled and felt the edges of her mouth rise.

"Hey," he sighed. And was it just her or was that sigh one of contentment? His features certainly relaxed as she dropped into the seat beside him.

She felt a bottomless peace when she looked into his eyes. The moment would have been perfect, blissful, if not for the line of sweat around her neck.

"So I have a new rule," she murmured, bending slightly to put down her briefcase.

The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. "I was unaware we were setting rules, love."

"I know how much you hate them," she bit her lip to stifle her grin.

"On the contrary, darling, I love rules," his fingers skimmed her thigh.

For a moment she thought he was going to torment her right then and there. A tremor shook her leg, making it jiggle nervously, but rather than traveling up his hand moved down until he touched her wrist.

"Rules were meant to be broken," his eyebrow raised in challenge as he carded his fingers between hers.

"Not this one," her thumb rubbed his hand. "No more hickey's."

"I don't think I can follow that one," he shook his head, chuckling. His eyes darkened. "When I'm with you I get a little carried away."

"You're not the only one," she shivered, eyes falling to his throat. There was something about him that made everything feel brand new. "It's like were teenagers again, marking each other in some show of pride."

"Or ownership," he smirked. "I like looking at your body and seeing my handiwork. I like everyone knowing you're mine."

"Except they don't know," she shuddered. Really, wasn't that the reason she bit his throat? "Seeing them just starts rumours."

Her heart thundered, pulsing wildly in her throat. She was certain he could feel it when he brought his other hand to her jaw. The silk scarf fell, following the soft tug of his fingers.

"Do you know what this does?" His thumb brushed the purple splotch of skin. "It declares to anyone who sees it that you are off limits. People would have to know something to gossip."

"Cami knows," she whispered, leaning a little closer so her lips brushed his ear. "She figured it out. That's why we have a new rule." She squeezed his hand and walked her fingers up his chest. Working the button loose, she nipped at his ear and moved down to the next button. "It's too hot for scarves and tight collars."

He sighed, melting into his seat as the air kissed his skin.

"If I promise to leave them lower, say," he trailed a single finger between her breasts, "in this general area, and maybe just above your hemlines," his eyes flickered to her legs, "can I still mark you?"

"Only if I can too," she spread his collar open, content to show off her handiwork now that only Cami could see them and only if she actually looked back.

She moistened her lips and laid her head back, slowly trailing her hand over his bicep.

"Is this okay?" Her voice was small when she gently lowered her cheek to his shoulder. The heat had zapped all of her energy and all she wanted was to feel him close as she rested. Maybe she should talk to Cami about that because by anyone else's standards surely it was too fast for her to think like that.

"Are you kidding?" He breathed, pressing his lips to her damp hair. "I've been wanting to touch you all day. This is more than okay."

"Okay," she smiled, "don't let me fall asleep."

"What if I fall asleep?" He snickered, laying his cheek atop her head.

"That's okay," her eyes fluttered closed. "Just rest a few minutes."

* * *

Cami glanced up from her notes and shifted, smiling softly at what she saw.

Her vision was primarily filled with Kol, but she could see enough of Elena to understand the situation which was a good thing because if she stood for a better look she would have drawn attention to the slumbering duo.

Elena's dark hair spread over his shoulder, pressed further down under the weight of Kol's cheek. The tip of one shoe showed, pointed towards him. Cami suspected they were holding hands.

"Why you facing this way?" Marcel paused in the aisle.

"I'm comfortable," she shrugged, closing her notebook. "I thought you were sitting at the front." The way she phrased it left a question in the air.

"I was gonna go sit with Kol."

"Why don't you sit with me?" She patted the seat across from her with her toes. "Kol's asleep."

"Then he's going to have a crick in his neck," he rolled his eyes. "That makes for a cranky politician."

"I don't think he's gonna mind too much," she smirked.

Marcel frowned as he sat and twisted , looking back. "Is that Elena?"

She could hear the way his brows rose in the tone of his voice.

"Aren't they adorable?" She kicked off her shoes, preparing to get more comfortable for the four hour drive between them and the hotel.

"They're together?" He turned back to look at her, eyes wide.

She noted his set face. "All I said is they're adorable," she held up her hands. "Make of that what you will."

"Are we going to have another NDA situation on our hands?" He rubbed his palms over his thighs.

"I don't think so," Cami blinked slowly, curling her legs up beneath her. "This is different. They're different."

Marcel was silent for a while as he steepled his fingers and tapped his mouth. "Maybe so," he admitted, then said softly. "Maybe so."

* * *

**June 25, 2020**

* * *

She suspected most people couldn't wait to leave the campaign headquarters and get away from the cacophony of ringing phones and overlapping voices. In a way she was one of those people, eager to return to a nice warm bed or enjoy an amazing meal in great company, but in others she was not. She loved the noise. She loved the mess. The eager swish of the copiers and the shouts across open spaces comforted her. It was the atmosphere of a newsroom. Here she was in her element.

As long as nobody got the bright idea to reheat fish of any kind in the communal microwave she remained happy.

She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. The weather had only kicked up over the last few days, but luckily the marks faded. It would probably be another day before they were completely gone, but the yellow tones disappeared under a thin layer of concealer and allowed for some of her cooler summer outfits.

Bending at the waist, she felt the light linen skirt rise a few inches and hitched a sharp breath. Not that it was necessary. The fresh mark he deliberately left on her thigh remained concealed; he swore it was out of sight when she asked, and even had her bend over a second time in the interest of being absolutely certain.

Personally she thought he had her do it to admire the view.

She quickly reloaded the paper tray and reached for the hard copy of her article.

"Has anyone told you how stunning you look?" His amused voice came from above her head.

"It hasn't come up today," she flashed a coy smile over her shoulder and straightened. And if she pressed her body back in a light brush well then, it wasn't like anybody else was crammed in the tiny copy room. The cramped space more than allowed for 'accidental' brushes; early that morning she had fallen back into Josh as they tried and failed to refill the toner cartridge.

Though that one had been an accident.

"Really?" His hands traced the air over her hips. "Nobody has commented on how your legs stretch on for miles in those shoes. They haven't told you that all they can think about is your strong thighs wrapped around their shoulders?"

Her heart skipped and that hitched breath refused to leave her lungs when his voice dropped to a sinful whisper.

"Or how blue is your colour," her lashes fluttered against her cheek, "and how lovely it would be to…" he ducked his head and nipped at her ear, bringing one hand around her front to play with the small button concealing her cleavage. He gave the hard plastic a gentle tug. "Pop open this pretty little blouse just enough to show your gorgeous front."

"Now why would anyone want to do that?" Her fingers curled around the article, still warm from the printer.

"Obviously so they could watch the beautiful jiggle as they took you on the copy room table," he teased, kissing the column of her throat.

"I can't say that anybody has told me that," Elena chewed her bottom lip. "It would be grounds for harassment."

"Is that what this is?" He gently bit her shoulder and splayed his left hand on her ass, giving a soft squeeze.

"From anyone else," she giggled, "but from you it's just bordering on public indecency."

"I shut the door."

"It doesn't lock." She turned around to see that he had indeed shut the door, revealing the stacked boxes of toner and ink and paper. She wondered what the odds were of somebody coming in during the next ten minutes because really if they were gonna do anything in the copy room it was going to be a quickie.

And that table was the perfect height, plus she could feel him already hardening against her behind.

"That just means we have to be fast," he caught her wrist and spun her around.

"You don't do anything fast," she licked her bottom lip. The hard copy rustled against her hip when she laid her free hand over his ribs. "You tease and you torment, and drag everything out for hours."

"I've never heard you complain," he smirked. "Although I suppose I have heard you beg, but just because I choose to tease you until you're writhing on the bed and desperate for release, doesn't mean I can't be fast as well."

She thought about the previous night and her spread legs and his cheeky grin after she made the mistake and actually showed him the previously 'poor worn out vibrator' that had become the poor neglected vibrator. He took great pleasure in dragging the buzzing device over her hard nipples and slipping the edge inside her, occasionally letting it brush the spot she wanted it.

"I've yet to see you be fast," she shook her head.

"Then perhaps I should demonstrate for you," he tipped up her chin with his fingers and bent slightly to brush a soft kiss across her parted lips that made her toes curl.

"Not off to a good start," she teased, smoothing her hand around his back. Muscles rippled beneath her wandering fingers.

His large hand splayed over her silk blouse, rubbing her hip with tiny circles. The fingers below her chin moved into her hair. She sank into his hold, enjoying the feel of his hands as she dropped the article and wound her other arm inside his jacket, around his back.

Her skin tingled where he touched her and when he kissed her again warmth moved from her mouth straight down to her belly. She nipped at his lower lip and felt him shiver, pressing closer to her.

His mere presence proved innately captivating, but his kisses lacked any sense of urgency. She could taste a hint of desperation in the sweep of his tongue and feel it in the desire coursing through her veins, but he seemed perfectly content to kiss her slowly, thoughtfully.

Eventually they had to part for air.

"Really bad start," she breathed, lips brushing his as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, darling," his swollen lips brushed her cheek, "there is something intoxicating about your mouth. Every kiss is like a drug, and I'm quickly becoming addicted. All I want to do with you is take my time."

"Don't get me wrong Kol," she dragged her mouth across his jaw and down his throat, speaking between the occasional kiss, "because I love that you love taking your time. I love the way you play my body like an instrument. I love…"

Elena cut her voice off before she managed to say anything that betrayed her heart.

"What do you love Elena?" He gently tugged on her hair, bringing her face up. "What were you going to say?"

"How much I love the insane release after you've teased me all day and half the night," she turned her head and kissed his wrist. It wasn't a lie. She did love it. Almost as much as she loved the way he held her afterwards, the comfort she felt wrapped in his arms, and the safety of waking in his bed.

But it was still too early to admit those things.

"I love it," she hummed, closing her eyes, "but do you know what else would be amazing?"

"What?" He kissed the corner of her mouth.

She brought her hands around to his front and rested them on his shoulders as she rose up on her toes to breathe hotly against his ear.

"Being bent over the nearest flat surface," she felt his erection twitch against her hip, "and fucked hard and fast and dirty until I scream into my fist and you cum inside me, and for the rest of the day I feel our release sticking to my thighs."

"Dirty girl," he chuckled. "Should I wash your mouth out with soap?"

"Is soap really the thing you want in my mouth," she tilted her head. Her hands fell quickly and deftly worked free his belt. She glanced around him at the closed door and thanked anyone listening that hardly anybody relied on hard copies anymore. "Because _I_ don't want soap in my mouth."

"Elena, what… oh…" he grunted when her fingers curled around his length, freeing him from his boxers.

She pumped him slowly, smirking when his eyes closed. She dropped in front of him and continued to stroke him as she hiked her skirt high around her waist.

She engulfed the engorged head of his cock and sought out her swollen clit with her fingers. She knew how to get herself off quickly and set her hand to work.

Looking up through her lashes she caught his lidded eyes and held his gaze when she flattened her tongue to the underside of him and traced the vein. Her eyes sparkled as she bobbed her head up and down, easily taking him down her throat after weeks of practice, not that he ever asked her to suck his cock. One of her college boyfriends loved getting her on her knees and that had made her despise the act and him because he never wanted to return the favour, but she liked doing it for Kol especially when he lost control and bucked into her mouth.

He gathered her hair in one hand to watch her better, groaning as he disappeared and reappeared between her red lips. Saliva glistened on his cock and from the corner of her mouth.

"Darling," he warned in a low voice, "if you don't stand back up now and bend over then I'm going to use that pretty little mouth of yours likes its your cunt."

She moaned around him and felt a rush of warmth coat her busy fingers. Relaxing her jaw, she thrust two of her fingers in her empty channel and winked.

His eyes darkened. With a deep growl he held either side of her face and thrust his hips forward, falling quickly into a rhythm.

With any luck she'd be able to drive him wild enough that he would fuck her pussy as he was her mouth some other time.

The hand not pleasuring herself came up to fondle his tightening balls. Realizing he was close she moaned enthusiastically and swallowed around him.

That was all it took to make him grunt into his hand and hold the back of her head. He came in spurts down her throat and filled her mouth that widened as she cried around him, hips riding her fingers.

Her orgasm rippled out in shockwaves, leaving her aching to be filled.

She swallowed the mouthful and stood, mentally applauding herself when her knees didn't shake.

"That," she pressed her wet fingers to his lips, and tucked him back into his pants, "is how you do something fast."

He sucked her fingers clean and released them with a pop. "That's one way." His thumb caught a white line of cum from her chin.

"Do I look presentable?" She licked it off and stepped back, bumping into the copier as she did. She reached for a tissue and dried off her fingers before dabbing around her mouth. Her hands patted down her hair.

"You won't when I'm done," he slumped, bracing his hands on the table behind him.

The copier whirred to life.

Elena smiled, bending to retrieve her article. Miraculously it had survived with only a few wrinkles from being held.

"I think we are done for now," she nodded to the machine.

"You mean we're done in here," he chuckled. "The rest of my day is wide open."

"Like my legs are about to be?" She giggled.

"Precisely," he chuckled. "Pick a location, my love, and I'll wrap those gorgeous legs around my shoulders."

"That's gonna have to wait a few minutes," she waved the pages as evidence. "I need to drop this off to Marcel. He wanted to look before I sent it to my editor."

"Marcel is on a late lunch with Cami," he reached out and caught her wrist. "I'll bring you unspeakable pleasure right there on his desk."

"Is that why he's got a private office?"

"That, and he needs the space for all of his hard copies," Kol rolled his eyes. "I swear he's single handedly going to destroy a rainforest."

"He does recycle what he shreds," she pointed out.

"That's true." He nodded. "So what do you say?"

"I say," she kissed the corner of his mouth, "give me a five minute head start."

"Ashamed of your copy room blow job?" He teased. "You shouldn't be; it was spectacular."

"Not in the slightest," she reached for the handle and opened the door, "I just thought you might like to wipe the 'I-just-had-a-mind-blowing-orgasm-at-work' look off your face before facing a campaign headquarters full of strangers. I think it's sexy as hell, but hardly a public appearance look."

She left him there to catch his breath and hurried down the hall, nodding politely to the volunteer who was rushing towards the copy room. A small smile graced her lips at the thought of him getting caught in some unwelcome discussion and making a polite excuse to leave.

Marcel's office sat on the other side of the open floor and down a short hall, so it took her a moment to reach it and step inside.

She flicked on the overhead light and moved towards the desk. Her eyes flickered over the messily arranged office supplies until she found a stapler that she used to bind the pages together.

A pad of yellow post it notes sat beside his closed computer and she picked them up along with a pen to write out a quick message, but when she poised the pen on the paper she saw what the notes had been sitting on.

The innocuous file folder stood out by the label she could now see. And though she was never the invasion of privacy sort she couldn't stop herself from lifting it.

Was it an invasion when the file bore her name?

Her stomach twisted in knots. She flipped it open and came face to face with her scanned driver's license. It was the first of many pages. She turned them over one by one as the knots shifted into white hot rage with each new piece. He had everything: pictures, exes marked with a red sticker, tax returns, credit scores and several risqué selfies from a locked folder on her phone that she had taken but never had the guts to send to the boyfriend who asked.

At the back was her birth certificate. How the fuck did he get a copy of her birth certificate? Why was it stapled to a bunch of other papers? And why was there a note about her mother?

_No record of m.g. being pregnant. Forged birth certificate? Who is she? Where did she come from?_

Tears sprang up in her eyes.

"Elena?" Kol's voice came from the door.

She could only see his outline when she lifted her head.

"Darling, what's wrong?" He left the door open and strode towards her, but she backed away.

The folder slapped closed.

"What the hell is this?" Her voice cracked, but the colour in her cheeks was all anger.

"What is what?" He frowned.

Up close she could see the concern in his eyes.

"Don't 'what is what' me, Kol Mikaelson," she slammed the file against his chest, spitting the words. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. She swallowed to regain some moisture in her mouth. "Marcel's your fixer," the title tasted bitter on her tongue, "and you had him run a check on me."

"What?" His eyes widened.

"What's the matter Kol?" She swiped at her cheeks. Her anger melted into despair. "Haven't read the dirt yet?"

He fumbled to keep the folder from falling.

She took advantage of the distraction to move away.

"Why would I ever ask Marcel to do this?" He waved the manila.

"To make sure there are no skeletons in the freaking closet," she cried, pressing her palms to her eyes. She couldn't look at him. If she looked at him she would remember how it felt to be wrapped in his arms.

Not that she could forget.

"I already know all the skeletons in your closet, Elena," he slapped the folder down on the desk, voice straining with anger. "Not that you have any."

"You don't know everything," she shook her head. How could he? She didn't even know everything.

His hands caught her shoulders. He tightened his grip when she tried to pull away.

"I know, that you know, I would never do this."

She gasped around a sob.

"I trust you Elena," he moved to brush away her tears.

She lowered her head.

"I know that whatever I don't already know, you will tell me when you're ready." He ducked down to meet her eyes. "I will talk to Marcel about this, but I had nothing to do with it. I swear to you, Elena."

Her bottom lip wobbled dangerously and she pressed it down into a trembling line. The chunky block letters swam in her mind, overly bright and impossibly loud.

"I don't… I… I…"

_Who is she?_

"I…" she backed out of his hold, eyes darting wildly towards the folder.

_Where did she come from?_

"I…" she held out her hands when he came closer. She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? She needed to breathe. "I have to get out of here."

His shout followed her down the hall, drowning under the cacophony of the main room. She bobbed and weaved her way between bodies until she managed to break away and stumble onto the street.

Sweat broke out in the stifling heat and grew worse until it dripped down her spine. She found herself grateful she wore the skirt with pockets that morning so she had enough cash on her to hail a cab.

She got out the name of the hotel and fastened her seatbelt before she couldn't hold back her tears anymore.


	5. June 25, 2020 Part Two

**June 25, 2020 Part 2**

* * *

"I kind of regret not getting that ice cream," Cami groaned as they re-entered the building, effectively escaping the sweltering heat.

"It would have melted before we could get back," Josh shoved up his sleeves, exposing his arms directly to the air conditioning.

"Nothing wrong with ice cream soup," she grinned.

"Personally I prefer the ice cream cold," Marcel laughed, "and to finish it cold today we would have had to eat it so fast that we all developed brain freeze."

"I wouldn't mind any kind of freeze right now," Cami let out a wistful sigh.

"I'll tell you what," Marcel rubbed the back of his head, "I'll pick up my files and computer, you get the latest videos to review and Josh can pick up what he needs. Then we head back to the hotel and get a big tub of ice cream."

"Or we could just jump in the pool," Cami hummed, already feeling the cold water surrounding her. She had what she needed for the evening so she followed Marcel back to his office.

The open door made her pause, granting a glimpse of Kol inside, pacing back and forth with a thick folder.

Marcel barely got out a greeting before a fist collided with his jaw, impact knocking him into a wall where he fell.

"What the hell?" Cami slammed the door shut, bracing her back against it.

Marcel climbed back to his feet, rubbing his face.

She saw it a spilt second before it happened and could only watch as he punched Marcel again. She jumped between them before he could go for a third and held him back with hands on his chest.

"Kol?" Her heart beat loudly in her ears.

"You had no right." His words were cold and quiet in stark contrast to the wild rage that left bruises on Marcel's face. "You had no right to dig through her life."

"I had every right," Marcel grunted. "She's spending time with you. We needed to know everything."

"Elena's an open book you bloody idiot," he spat over Cami's head. "I have known her since I was seven years old. There are no skeletons in her closet and no embarrassing relations."

"Really?" Marcel scoffed. "So I suppose you knew about the illegal activity surrounding her birth?"

"What the hell are you on about?" His eyes narrowed.

"Read the file. At the back," Marcel rolled his neck. "There are no records of Miranda Gilbert being pregnant with her, and dozens of doctor's reports for her brother. Somebody falsified her birth certificate. For all we know she's not even American. She could be a foreign spy for all anyone knows."

"Are you crazy?" Kol pulled out the papers. "I've known Elena since I was seven years old."

"I'm not saying she is one," Marcel sighed, "I'm saying it's a conclusion people will jump to. False documentation and a reputation as a respected journalist working her way up Capitol Hill. It doesn't look good."

"I don't care how it looks to you or anyone else," he stuffed the pages back into the folder. "Stay the hell out of her past."

He shoved away from Cami and wrenched open the door.

"Where are you going?" She turned to Marcel, inspecting the damage.

"I'm gonna go and make sure she's alright because she ran out of here in tears before I could stop her," he seethed, cutting his eyes back to Marcel. "I suggest you make this right soon, before I get the urge to blacken your other eye."

* * *

She hugged the hotel pillow to her chest and stared at the desk in the corner through tired eyes. She felt dried out, drained of everything but the tight ball in her chest.

A single page fluttered in the air conditioner's blast, flapping noisily against her open laptop.

That stupid note bared her deepest fears. She could see them now, laid out at her feet. As a potential embarrassment with who knew how many relatives waiting in the woodwork she wasn't good enough.

Not that she had thought she was good enough before.

She was a reporter and that made her as far from First Lady material as possible. Not that she had been thinking about being First Lady; it was just a side effect of her other fantasy that involved Kol and a white dress and mischievous eyes in an impossibly small face.

But she wasn't good enough for that.

She was a giant question mark, and who was left to answer it?

Water leaked from her eyes into her hair.

So much for being cried out.

She closed her eyes and saw it again. She heard the scream and rush of water, felt the ice spread through her veins, sensed the darkness closing in. And then she remembered waking up in the back of an ambulance.

They were gone.

They couldn't answer.

They couldn't tell her anything.

They were gone.

They couldn't answer.

But maybe someone could.

She fished through her pocket for her phone and forced her eyes open as she scrolled, selecting the direct line they called a 'lifeline'. Her throat constricted painfully; she swallowed until a little moisture returned to her mouth.

" _Hello?"_ Jenna Sommers voice filtered through her ear.

"Aunt Jenna?" Her voice cracked.

_"Elena? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"_

Jenna rattled off question after question. Keys jingled in the background, and she pictured her driving like a demon to get to Texas and her upset niece.

"Was I…" she swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut. "Was I adopted?"

Air rushed in her ear as Jenna inhaled quickly. Somehow that was more telling than anything she could say. And then Jenna was talking a mile a minute, trying to explain between dropped apologizes and halting breaths.

Grayson Gilbert doctored the birth certificate when her teenage birth mother left her in his care.

She had been abandoned at three days old. That might have stung more if she were still a teenager, but she couldn't begrudge the girl for wanting out. What sort of life would she have had raised by someone who probably didn't want her, and who clearly unable to provide for her?

It still made her angry.

What if Grayson and Miranda hadn't wanted her either? Where would she be?

Somehow she managed to choke out a second question and avoid the three asking how she had found out in the first place.

"Who… who was she? Where did she come from?"

 _"I don't know, sweetie,"_ Jenna swallowed. _"I only ever knew her name."_ She breathed it then and the five syllables rattled inside her brain. _"Elena?"_

 _"_ I gotta go." She hung up, dropping the phone onto the bed. It immediately started buzzing.

She ignored it and rolled onto her side.

The hotel door clicked open.

She hugged the pillow tighter, staring at the flapping page as he entered. There was a moment of shuffling feet while shoes were toed off and then the bed dipped under his weight.

"Jenna's calling," he breathed, setting something down on the nightstand.

"Don't wanna talk to her," she mumbled with all the petulance of a child.

"Very well," he said, doing something that stopped the buzzing.

A soft clunk told her he'd put it on the night stand as well. Then the bed shifted again as he stretched out behind her. A strong arm slipped over her side and wiggled under the pillow until his palm pressed flat to her stomach.

"I'm so sorry, darling," he kissed her shoulder.

"You read it?" She released a shaky breath.

"He told me," he tightened his hold as she pressed against his chest, "after I punched him in the face."

She wanted to giggle at the image of Kol losing it, succumbing to the base desires he liked to hide, for her, but she couldn't bring herself to do more than smile.

"Who am I?" The air conditioner made a decent attempt to drown out her strained whisper.

"You're the same person you were this morning," he propped up on an elbow when she shook her head. "Look at me Elena."

She blinked quickly, slowly turning her head. His dark eyes were soft for her.

"You are the same woman you were this morning," he moved his thumb over her naval. "You're the same bright, brilliant, bloody curious woman you were this morning. This doesn't change that. You're still my best friend. You are still Elena Gilbert."

"But I'm not," her lip wobbled.

"You are," he insisted. "You are compassionate and fiery, and the best woman in my life - don't tell my sisters."

That drew a giggle. She sobered quickly.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. You didn't deserve that."

"You made a reasonable assumption, darling," he dipped down and kissed her cheek. "It's not like I haven't asked him to do stuff like that before."

"You deserve better than me," she bit her cheek.

"You let me decide what I deserve, Elena," he tugged the pillow from her hands, letting it thump onto the floor. "If anybody deserves more it's you."

He pressed his fingers to her lips when she moved to protest.

"Don't deny it, Elena," his thumb swiped at her cheek, "it's because of me you're crying. It's because of me he did it. And I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he kissed her brow, her closed eyes and finally her lips, pouring his apology into the slow movement of his mouth.

She rolled onto her back as he shifted, hovering above her body. Her hands grasped at his shirt, tugging up until she could feel the powerful muscles in his lower back.

Kol broke away, resting his brow on hers. "Tell me what you need love. Do you want me to fly Rebekah and Caroline here? I'll have them in this room by nightfall."

She shook her head and sniffed, certain she looked absolutely disgusting but unable to care or feel self conscious.

"I need to feel normal," she chewed on her bottom lip. She wasn't sure when exactly he became her normal, but there was the truth. "Make me feel normal," she fumbled at his belt buckle. "Please, Kol. I don't need Caroline and Bekah right now; I need you."

She needed to feel him pressed against her body, inside her body. She needed the comfort that came from being with him.

"Are you sure?"

She pushed at his chest and stood from the bed, wiping one hand across her cheek as she turned to face him. Her fingers worked at her buttons, clumsy and slow; there was nothing remotely sexy in the way she pulled off her clothes.

"I might not know where I came from," a tear dripped from her chin unto her breast. "I might have doubts about who I am," she let her blouse fall away and reached for her skirt's zipper, "but I know what I need right now."

He stared at her for a moment before he rose in a fluid motion and circled around the bed. She watched him shed his clothes and drape each piece in a careless pile on the armchair.

By the time she unhooked her garters and rolled the silk tights off he was naked.

And maybe she wasn't totally disgusting because he was already half hard.

Without her heels she was too short to kiss him without making him stoop, so she guided him down until he sat on the edge of the bed. Lifting one leg and then the other she straddled his waist and held his face.

His hands came up to rest on her hips.

She kissed him once on the lips and then moved to nibble on his earlobe before searing a path down his neck to his shoulders. She snaked one hand down, gently stroking him until he reached his full length.

His fingers sought out the points he knew would make her moan.

Leaning back a few inches she lined him up and sank down. There was a little discomfort but she was still wet enough that she could ignore it.

His lips explored her smooth skin. Moving up from her throat to her face, he kissed away her tears.

That simple act made her want to cry some more, but she didn't.

Her heart sped up as she moved with the aid of his hands gliding gently up and down the length of her back. He directed her hips to twirl and she moaned at the sensation when his hard length stirred her insides.

The coil in her belly tightened. Her leg muscles trembled with each downward thrust, and when he added that little swivel her vision threatened to black out.

Somehow she held it together and drank in the intimacy of the moment, the way her curves fit to the contours of his body, the brushes of his lips against every inch of flesh he could reach.

"I'm close," she shook with need, walls starting the familiar flutter. "I'm so close."

"Cum for me then, love," he drew her lips back for a long kiss, pausing only to murmur soft words against her mouth. His thumb found her clit and pressed down.

Her abdomen quivered, pulling taut, before the pressure released. Her entire body tingled as her vision finally went black. When she came to her senses again she felt Kol's drugging kisses across her jaw and his hard length still inside her, stretching her wide.

"You didn't make any plans for the evening, love?" He nipped at her ear.

"I… I have some work to do," her chest heaved, hard nipples brushing against him on each inhale.

"You can do it later," he lifted her bodily and laid her out on the bed. "I have no intention of making this quick."

"You never do," she sighed, gasping as he lowered his body over hers.

"I need to show you how important you are," he murmured against her breast, trailing his lips over her flat belly. He positioned his body low, hooking her thighs over his shoulders. "And I did promise to wrap these enchanting legs around my head."

She breathed his name while pushing her fingers through his hair. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you."

"You will." He took her hands away and threaded their fingers together, holding her hands below her risen thighs and smiled, dipping to run his tongue through her folds. "I promise."

She held tightly to him, grounded to the hotel comforter by his hands and mouth. She lost herself in the euphoric sensations, submitting to three earth shattering orgasms before she tugged him back up.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of flesh on flesh as they fell into the timeless dance. Eventually she found herself on her side playing with the fingers across her belly.

"Do you feel better?" He breathed, deep and even against her back.

"No," her soft smile dropped to a frown as she remembered the events leading up to the marathon of love-making. "I don't feel better, but I feel…" she chewed her bottom lip and rolled over, wrapping her arm around his waist. "I feel... safer?"

"Nothing wrong with that," he smiled. Their skin stuck together, sweat from their actions acting as a glue. "Should we adjourn to the shower, and maybe I'll continue to make you feel safer again."

"That sounds wonderful," she dropped her head to the pillow, "but if we do that I'm afraid we'll be in the shower all afternoon and I really do have to get some work done."

"Okay," he nodded, inhaling slowly, "why don't I take a quick shower and you can get that work done? Then after you can take a shower while I order us some dinner and shred that file. I hear there is a Thai place a couple of streets over thats to die for. How does that sound?"

"Like you just might be perfect," she blinked.

He chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm not perfect, love," he got to his feet, smirking down at her, "a perfect man would shred it all. I have every intention of keeping a couple of those pictures."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather take some?" She rolled her eyes, pretending to lift away the sheet.

"I'm not much of a photographer," he backed towards the ensuite. "Besides thievery is more my style."

"I concede. You're not perfect," she let her eyes flicker over his body, "but the view certainly is."

He laughed and slipped into the restroom.

She stretched when he was gone and got up, retrieving an oversized t-shirt from the closet. The first time she wore it he objected to the ACDC tee, but dropped the topic when she admitted it was one she had stolen from Jeremy and not something from an ex-boyfriend.

She almost wished she hadn't told him right away and let him robe her in one of his t-shirts instead.

With Jeremy's shirt on she sat down and booted up her computer. There wasn't a whole lot she had to do, but the deadline loomed for her articles submission.

Before she could hit send a window popped up on her screen. She glanced over her shoulder where the shower ran and estimated enough time to answer what was sure to be a freak out call.

"Hey, Caroline."

Caroline's blonde curls filled the screen. She saw the outline of a house behind her shoulders and decided she must have propped her phone on the low brick wall outside what had to be the Mikaelson mansion.

"Are you alright? Your article is due in like four minutes and you always have it in before noon."

"I was just about to send it." Elena split her screen so she could see the email and clicked the appropriate button.

"You didn't answer my question," Caroline persisted. "You're never late, or near late Elena. What gives?"

"I was just busy," she shrugged.

Caroline went quiet and leaned closer to her camera. She could feel the way her friend scrutinized her through the connection and resisted the urge to fidget. Any movement might draw her sharp eagle eyes to other parts of the room.

"You look upset, but also something else."

"Something else?"

"Yeah, you look drained like you've been crying and relaxed like you just had an awesome massage."

Elena shifted slightly to the left and prayed Caroline didn't see her flush.

Blue eyes narrowed.

"That bed is all mussed up." Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Elena Gilbert; were you 'feeding the kitty'?"

"You did not just say that?" She forgot her mortification when she laughed.

"You were," Caroline jumped. "Come on, spill, who's the boy?"

"Care, I'm thirty-one. There is no 'boy'." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she sighed, "who's the man?" She cringed, likely unable to believe she had uttered those words and become a walking meme.

"That's my business," she shook her head.

"Well, you don't want to talk about what's bugging you, so tell me about the guy, or the girl, or whoever fed your kitty."

"You need to come up with a better euphemism," Elena groaned.

"I like mine. So, which is it gonna be?"

"I don't want to talk about what's bugging me Care," she should have known her friend would see it in her face, "I'm not ready. And I'm not really obligated to tell you about my sex life."

"I'm here whenever you want to talk, and of course you're obligated," her voice rose to a shriek.

Elena fully expected Caroline to go on about their friendship and how she always told Elena about her sex life, but the blonde fell silent. At first she thought it was a delay, but then she noted the way her blue eyes grew to the size of saucers.

A squeal broke up the silence and Caroline jumped, hands dragging towards her mouth.

"Oh bloody hell."

Elena's mouth popped open, reflexively she slapped at the keyboard until the call ended but a single look at Kol - head in one hand - told her it was too late.

She attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace.

"So," she chewed her bottom lip, "how long before everyone we know hears that you're walking around in a towel on my webcam?"

"It's Caroline," he blew out a rush of air. "I give it an hour before we're bombarded with phone calls." His eyes flickered to her buzzing cell phone. "Speaking of: why is it you don't want to speak to Jenna?"

"Because she knew," she closed her computer. "Are you upset that everybody is going to know?" She knew Caroline wouldn't tell anyone that would spread it to tabloids. They didn't have to worry about paparazzi hounding them.

"No," he shook his head. Bending down he gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Take your shower love. Would you like me to answer Jenna while you're in there? I can tell her you're not ready yet."

"Would you?" She swallowed.

"Of course, darling."

* * *

Caroline burst through the mansion doors in a flurry of blonde curls and grey cashmere, shouting as she went. The click of heels raced to meet her in the grand ballroom.

"Red alert, Bex! SOS! Red Alert!"

"Caroline, calm down." Rebekah rushed over, grabbing her friend's flailing arms.

"How can I calm down?" She shrieked. "This is huge news. Life altering, mind-blowing news. They're doing it, Bex! Don't you understand? THEY ARE DOING IT!"

"Who's doing what?" She sighed. Knowing Caroline it could be any number of high profile celebs, or someone in town having a torrid affair.

"Elena and Kol," she threw up her hands. "They are doing it. I caught them. He fed her kitty!"

"What?" Rebekah shrieked. She thrust her hands into her hair, groaning loudly.

"Did I hear that right?"

Caroline whipped around to see Finn leaning in a doorway.

"Kol and Elena are together?" He repeated, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

"Were you not listening to her outdated sex references?" Rebekah shook her head, grimacing as Caroline repeated herself. "You need to start saying something else, like 'fucking', or just stick with 'doing it'."

"So they're together," Finn grinned, crossing the floor to his sister, "and Elena's birthday was just a few days ago."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Caroline frowned.

"It's the bet, Caroline."

* * *

Marcel rubbed the back of his neck after knocking on the door and waited. As the seconds ticked by he worked his sore jaw and considered the best thing to say, but when the door swung open on a shirtless Kol every thought flew out of his head.

He gaped for a moment, glancing beyond to where Elena sat curled in a chair wearing a man's shirt and little else.

Some of Kol's clothes poked out of the open closet beside a handful of summer dresses.

How long had they been sharing a room?

How had nobody noticed?

"Did you need something, Marcellus?" Kol's voice lacked any warmth.

"I came to talk to Elena," he cleared his throat, dragging one foot along the floor. "Didn't know you'd be here."

"Elena, love," he stared Marcel in the eye, "Marcellus would like to speak with you. Should I let him in, or break his nose?"

Somehow Elena managed to curl tighter into her chair. The sight of the confident young woman broken stabbed at his gut. With a jolt he realized what exactly had caused it. The bright woman he had come to know wouldn't cower over credit scores or stolen photographs; that woman would scream and kick, and maybe break his nose for herself.

It was the birth certificate.

It was the connotations that came with it.

"I think that silence can be interpreted for a broken nose," his eyes narrowed.

"Don't," Elena whispered. "With the way my days going somebody will take a picture."

"I'll just have to do it later then," he gripped the doorknob. "Good evening Marcellus."

"Wait," he slammed a hand against the wood, holding the door from closing completely. He could just see her as she hugged her legs to her chest and blinked at the carpet. "I came to say I'm sorry, and that I'd like to fix this. I don't know how yet."

"You're good at sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, aren't you?"

Marcel thought she was going for bitter, but her voice wobbled around the words. Somehow that made him feel worse.

"I'm excellent at it," he swallowed.

"Isobel Flemming."

"What?" His question was echoed by Kol, and the door opened as he turned around.

"Isobel Flemming," she repeated, slightly stronger. "You wanna fix this? Put that talent to use."


	6. October 22, 2020

Voices whispered around her, bombarding every inch of Belmont University's auditorium with an anxious hum of energy. She had a pretty decent seat, all things considered. Most of the journalists sat scattered around the place with views that ranged from abysmal to 'is-that-him-behind-the-pillar'. She got the coveted spot reserved for candidate family and team members so she could see everything and it only came with a single drawback.

Being backstage meant her view was from the side, and the view she wanted, the image of Kol in his clean cut suit - the one she wanted to peel off piece by piece - was blocked by a man she really didn't want to see.

"He's doing a good job," Cami mused from beside her, "open and engaging. That's excellent."

"Open and engaging, and witty are only gonna get him so far today," Elena breathed. She would rather gauge her eyes out than look at his opponent, but she had to admit he possessed many of the same qualities. "Damon Salvatore can be just as charismatic."

"I gotta believe people can see through the show," Cami sighed, tapping her foot against the floor. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she glanced around the backstage area. In the corner she spotted Marcel talking in a low voice on the phone jammed between his shoulder and ear while his hand took quick notes.

Elena followed her look and gritted her teeth.

Which of course, Cami saw.

Stupid psychologists.

"Are you going to be angry at him forever?" She hooked her finger under her watch chain.

"He ripped my world apart," she inhaled sharply, exhaling in a controlled rush. "He took everything I knew about myself and scribbled it out with a red pen."

She licked her lips and sniffed, dropping her eyes to her lap. It had been months since she found the file, months since her heart shattered to pieces and she relived her teenage grief.

She had told Caroline after a few days, and Rebekah, and her brother. The memory of that lunch when the campaign bus swung through Mystic Falls still made her emotional.

And it was only partly because Kol deliberately altered their course of travel to give her that moment with her friends, and with Jeremy.

Everyone who mattered knew, and that went a long way to fixing the damage done.

She was adopted, but she had been loved.

She was adopted, but she had her friends.

She was adopted, but she had her family.

Her friends had squealed happily when she showed up for the unexpected lunch and told them she had something to tell them. They had sat on the edge of their seats while she picked over her burger and fries then poked at a slice of apple pie. When she took the deep breath that came before her admission they both fell silent, but she got the sense her words weren't what the girls had been expecting.

Jeremy had declared loudly and with particular vehemence that it changed nothing. She had always been his annoying big sister. She always would be his annoying big sister.

They loved her.

She was still her.

She was still Elena Gilbert.

Later, on the bus, she had marvelled over Caroline refraining from asking about what she witnessed with Kol. And after Kol admitted none of his brothers mentioned it she had to conclude that for once Caroline had kept her mouth shut.

Maybe she was waiting until it was clear she was better before dropping the bombshell that would have Rebekah climbing down her throat. If that was the case then Caroline had a new record for keeping a secret: four months.

"He broke me and left a giant question mark over my life," she came back to the present, rising from her chair.

"For what it's worth, Elena," Cami pushed her hair behind her ears, "I'm sorry for my part in this. I all but confirmed you were together when I said you two were cute, and set Marcel on his hunt."

"Thank you," she crossed her arms, hugging her elbows. Her fingers tugged gently at the indigo sleeves of her sweater.

"And for what's it's worth, knowing what you know shouldn't change anything."

"I know," Elena nodded. "It took me a little time to get there, but I know. I'm still me, but that doesn't erase the giant question that nobody, not even Marcel with his vast resources, seems to be able to answer."

"I guess her name was pretty common," Cami crossed her legs.

"Fourteen of them across the country near enough to the right age when you take in alternate spellings," Elena murmured, leaning against a pillar to get a glimpse of Kol cutting a remark towards Damon. "Half of them grew up close enough to fit the bill of teenage runaway."

"Marcel will find her," she watched him talking on his phone. "He's really good at what he does."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Elena caught Kol's eye when he glanced in her direction. She offered him a small smile that grew bigger when he went back to slapping Damon down in the debate. She couldn't wait to get him alone.

"Elena?"

Her heart skipped a beat and she jumped, spinning towards the voice at her side.

"Stefan?" Her brows rose, though why she was surprised she couldn't say. His brother _was_ on stage.

"I thought that was you," he smiled, tilting his head. "But I couldn't be sure when I saw you from the other side," he gestured with one hand to the other end of the stage.

"What are you doing here?" She swept her hair behind her ear.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He smirked, eyes sparkling.

"I meant over here," she laughed, shaking her head and lowering her voice to a whisper, "this is the opposing side."

"So, just because Damon's my brother I have to support his political party?" Stefan lifted a single brow.

"Does that mean you don't?" She mirrored his expression. Outright detestation from family probably wouldn't work in Damon's favour.

"Are we on the record?" He countered, leaning a little closer.

"I'm not here as a reporter Stefan," her stomach shifted with the admission. "I'm here as a friend."

"Well, its not a friend to Damon," he stole a quick glance on stage, catching Kol's attention for a split second. Taking half a step closer he whispered softly. "Did you know he cracked three of my ribs?"

"Damon broke your ribs?" Her brows rose into her hair line.

"No, not Damon, Kol," he held her gaze, "a few days after you and I broke up. It was at that start of summer party and everyone was drinking. I think I was flirting with someone, might have been Valerie, and suddenly Kol was there. Didn't say anything. Punched me once, hard, right here," he gestured to his side.

"You never said anything," her brows lowered.

"I always thought you knew," he shrugged. "I got the sense he did it because of you."

"What do you mean?" She leaned a little closer.

"I mean," Stefan whispered, "that anybody who dated you learned quickly to never break your heart, especially when he was around."

"Still, opposition would have loved to get their hands on that scoop," she ducked her head, feeling a slight flush stain her neck.

"Who hasn't gotten in a fight in high school?" Stefan chuckled. "Besides if I'd come forward with that it would have come out why he did it, and then I never would have heard the end of breaking up with you two days before your birthday through a text message."

"My birthday cake tasted like tears," she pushed her tongue between her teeth.

"I knew we weren't working out and I didn't handle it very well," he said by way of apology. "I assume you told Rebekah all about what a jackass I was, and then she told her brother, or he overheard, but somehow he found out about it and took revenge on your behalf."

"You probably got off easy," she huffed a laugh, "if I'd found you flirting with Valerie a couple of days after dumping me I probably would have kicked and ensured the Salvatore line ended."

"You're forgetting Damon," he winced.

"What woman in her right mind is gonna have kids with him?"

"Fair enough." Stefan nodded, smiling as he turned around. "Anyway, I just wanted to come and say hello, since I haven't seen you in so long."

"If I absolutely had to converse with a Salvatore today, I'm glad it was you," she frowned towards the stage.

"What exactly happened with you and Damon?"

"It's not what happened with me," her eyes narrowed, "and it's not my story to tell." She turned fully to face him. "It was nice to see _you._ "

"Likewise," he nodded.

The air thickened with awkward tension then and Elena resisted the urge to fidget.

How were you supposed to say goodbye to the person that took your virginity? A handshake felt too informal, and a hug _way_ too intimate.

Luckily Stefan felt it too and kept his departure to a short nod and kind smile.

As the debate wound down she stepped back from the crowd of people coming forwards to offer congratulations. She had her own celebration in mind that had absolutely nothing to do with a crowd of people. That was one fantasy she never felt the need to experience.

Plus a sex scandal less than two weeks before the election would not be good.

She could wait.

Slipping down a side hall she stepped into a restroom and examined her reflection in the mirror. Her lipstick had worn down, so she reached into her handbag for the tube. After replenishing the dark red she pulled the hairpins so the pinned locks tumbled around her shoulders and went about pulling them into a loose ponytail she could already feel him wrapping around his hand.

The restroom door opened behind her. She thought nothing of it until she heard the click of a lock and caught the reflection in the mirror.

"I'm pretty sure this it the ladies room," she caught his smouldering eyes in the mirror.

He was on her in a second, spinning her around and crashing his lips to hers in a kiss so punishing and hot that she felt a rush of arousal and feared there would be a dark stain on the crotch of her skinny jeans. It only got worse when his tongue forced its way into her mouth.

Not that she had a thought to stop him.

She was too busy trying to keep up with every bite and suck. And what exactly had she done to finally draw the rough side out?

She kind of liked it.

She felt him push her sweater down. It caught at her elbows.

That was when he had to breathe.

"You'll really do it anywhere won't you?" She panted.

"Stop talking," he growled, ripping open her white blouse.

She might have protested then, because dammit she liked that blouse and now it was in tatters, but he yanked down her bra cups and savagely sucked her nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck, Kol," she arched, pushing her breast further into his mouth. His teeth nipped down and she cried out grasping the back of his head.

"That's right," he growled, switching breasts, "say my name."

"Kol," she whimpered, gladly obliging.

He popped open her jeans and shoved his hand into her underwear, rubbing hard at her little nub.

She moaned, clutching at his suit jacket, scrabbling at the fabric, wanting it off, not wanting to be the only one half naked and going crazy. He refused to oblige her desperate attempts so she settled for palming his bulge, squeezing him through his trousers.

He pushed at her hands.

She got the message and set them on the bathroom sink. Her breasts glistened with his saliva when he leaned back to stare at her.

"Moan for me, Elena," he moved his hand further. The tightness of her jeans meant when he pushed a finger into her wet cunt his palm pressed down on her clit.

She wasn't sure how he did it, but somehow his palm rubbed her perfectly while his finger fucked her.

"Kol," she moaned his name, "more, please?"

"You want more?" He growled, pinching her right nipple with his free hand.

"Yes," she gasped. His rough treatment had her so close to the edge. She was ready to tumble over it and he had only begun touching her.

He tugged hard, twisting her nipple so her entire breast rose. She came with a scream that he muffled with his mouth. She whimpered, slumping against the counter.

Her body shuddered with her release.

Thank goodness her jeans were dark and her sweater long.

"We're not done yet," Kol pulled his hand from her pants. He spun her quickly, smearing her juices over her hip.

A hand on her throat forced her chin up so she could see his reflection. The lust in his eyes held her in place when he bit at her ear.

"I'm gonna make you come so hard right here, over this sink, until you're writhing with pleasure." He released her throat and ripped her jeans down her legs until they caught on her knee high boots. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he tore her thong from her body, dropping it on the counter, "and so good, that you forget everyone else because they could never bring you the ecstasy that comes from our coupling."

Metal clinked as he removed his belt.

She looked back when his pants hit the floor, watching as he pushed his boxers down to his knees and fisted his hard cock.

A hand on the small of her back pushed her down.

She braced her hands on the mirror for balance.

"You might feel the need to scream your pleasure," he bent slightly and bit her shoulder.

Her breath caught. She pushed her ass back into his hands, desperate for friction.

"Someone will hear me," she whimpered, closing her eyes.

"Then I shall have to gag you," he snatched up her discarded panties, shoving them into her open mouth.

Her own arousal coated the dark material and she moaned at the taste, sucking to get as much of it as possible.

Kol flipped the end of her sweater and ruined blouse up, exposing her to his gaze. With the fabric in one hand and his cock in the other he pushed forward, sheathing himself in one hard thrust that months of near constant intercourse made possible.

The sudden intrusion made her scream into the gag.

He set a punishing pace, pushing in and out with every ounce of strength he had.

Elena tried to keep her eyes open, but it was difficult when he was fucking her so hard. With every deep thrust his balls slapped her clit and her thighs hit the counter.

He hooked his arms around her front, bringing one hand up to further muffle her screams as the other palmed her bouncing breasts.

"That's it love," he sucked at her throat. "Moan for me. Scream into my hand. Because you're mine."

The possessiveness of his growl went straight to her cunt; she throbbed around him, tightening until he hissed.

"Damn," he pushed in and out, groaning when she gripped him like a vice. "You're so bloody tight like this. So bloody tight," he shut his eyes, rotating his hips when he was seated inside of her. "So bloody tight, and all mine."

Unexpectedly he ripped the panties from her mouth and curled his fingers lightly around his throat.

"Who's are you?" He snarled, squeezing gently.

She arched into him as her vision started to blur and her body shook.

"Who's are you?" He repeated.

"Y…" she wheezed for breath. "Yours," she choked out. "I'm yours."

"That's right." He released her throat. He could feel a layer of sweat adhering the back of his shirt to his damp skin. "You're mine, darling, only mine…"

Stars exploded behind her eyes, turning her vision to a blinding white as blood rushed in her ears, blocking out all but the possessive growl of 'mine'.

Her forehead rested against the cool glass.

She felt the first spurt of his release hit her cervix before he pulled his cock from her body. Warm seed streaked across her ass and lower back while her juices rolled down her legs.

He took her shoulders and moved her, dropping her until cold linoleum hit her butt and hot cunt. The floor ground the mess into her skin.

She lifted her eyes and saw his erection in line with her face. Her fingers shook, closing around his length and pumping.

"Who's are you?" He grabbed her ponytail, forcing her to lift her eyes up and meet him.

"I'm yours," she swore breathlessly, suspecting she had a drunken expression on her face. "Mark me."

He swore as the last of his release coated her breasts.

He sank to his knees when he was spent and just stared at her as he caught his breath. And she was sure she made quite a sight in her torn clothes with pants around her knees and his cum covering her chest.

She scooped up some of his cum form her nipple and popped her thumb into her mouth.

"Fuck, that's hot," his hand curled around her ankle. "Stop."

"Why?" She sighed, letting her eyes drop to his soft cock. The sight of him coated in her made her heart flutter; he had marked her, but she marked him in turn.

"I want you to leave it all," he crawled up her body. "I want you to button up that sweater and hide the ripped blouse, and then I want you to go to dinner with my cum on your tits and ass. I want you to feel it on your skin whenever some man or woman flirts with you tonight. I want you to remember who you belong to." He hovered over her body, staying clear so he kept his shirt clean. "Because you are mine darling. And when Stefan or Damon look to you in that restaurant and you feel me clinging to you, you'll remember that I alone can bring you pleasure so great you're reduced to a quivering mess in a public restroom."

And then just to prove what a mess she was he pushed a finger between her legs. The quick contact with her clit brought her a mini orgasm that made her melt after the way he took her.

After a moment she managed to grasp at a train of thought.

"Wait a minute," she pushed at his chest. "Are you freaking kidding me? I've been trying for months, tormenting you at every corner, to make you bend me over and take me like that. For months I've done everything I could think of to illicit the kind of desperate fucking that leaves me like, well," she waved a hand to her loose body, "like this. And you're telling me all that I had to do was have a discussion with an ex?"

"If you still remember him," Kol growled playfully, pushing on her clavicle to make her lay down, "then we're clearly not done."

"Oh we're nowhere near done," her eyes glittered, "but we are done in here. People are bound to notice we're missing and I don't even want to think about how many people have walked on this floor today."

"I'll just have to banish him from your mind after dinner," he smirked, "or maybe in the restaurant bathroom when I follow you to admire this handiwork," he trailed his fingernail between the valley of her breasts.

"I won't wash off your claiming mark until we get back to the hotel," she promised, "but you can't wash off mine either."

"Counter offer," he cocked an eyebrow. "When we get to the hotel you and I will take a nice hot bath in the suite's garden tub I know you've had your eyes on, and we'll wash each other. Maybe enjoy some wine and a second round while we're at it."

"Mm," she nodded, "that sounds like a plan. Oh, and uh, if I smile at anyone while we're out feel free to construe it as flirting." She kissed his cheek. "Cause I think I like jealous Kol," she winked as she stood, "the sex is hot as hell."


	7. October 31, 2020 - November 1, 2020

**October 31, 2020**

* * *

Everything ached.

Every freaking thing, from her swollen breasts, tender beneath the thin cotton shirt, to her pounding head.

And her back?

Her back cursed her for the decision to lay on the couch.

On top of all of that, the water bottle she clutched had gone cold while she napped.

Not that it had done anything anyway.

Her bloated abdomen reminded her of its rage with each beat of her heart Sometimes being a woman sucked.

It really sucked.

She squeezed her thighs tight to relieve the throbbing pain between her legs. Why did it have to hurt so much?

Part of her, the teeny part that grew loud when her estrogen dropped, wished her birth control had malfunctioned just so she could avoid the pain for a short while, but pregnancy came with its own unique drawbacks. And then they'd have a kid they hadn't planned for and weren't ready for. _And_ she'd have to push it out of her body which would hurt even more.

And they weren't ready for a kid.

No matter how cute the mischievous little eyes would be because any child of Kol Mikaelson would have a penchant for mischief.

She really wanted the throbbing to stop.

With a groan she turned her face into the couch cushion and hugged her cool water bottle tight just to have something to hold.

The elevator dinged. She cracked open one eye and glared at the shiny doors while they slid open. If he started anything with her today she'd light into him like a Christmas tree.

Stupid man. Stupid low maintenance reproductive organs. If he didn't make a baby he got to try again and again and again. If she didn't make a baby it was world war three in her uterus.

Stupid man.

Stupid penis.

Stupid man penis.

She was annoyed and she wanted to be annoyed, but when he stepped into the penthouse with a cardboard box in one hand and a large bag in the other intrigue stirred.

She didn't move though. As far as she was concerned her body had molded to his couch. She lived there now.

"Hello darling," Kol smiled, setting the box on the coffee table, "I know you're not feeling well."

She snorted.

"My apologies," he sat on the floor, dropping the bag near his hip. "I came home early, saw you sleeping with the hot water bottle, and I know your body hates you and is waging a bloody war."

She shoved at the pillow once and adjusted so she could open both eyes. Her frown felt a bit like a petulant pout, but she didn't care because her baby box wanted to kill her so she got to be a little petulant.

"I picked up your favourite pizza, went to the bodega around the corner and got your favourite wine, nicked some of the good candy from Hope's bucket when I bumped into her and Nik, and I got you some Midol." He arranged his stash along the glass table. "Now that I think about it, I'm not sure you should mix Midol with alcohol. It is a pain killer, after all."

She surveyed the contents of the table and then watched him flip over the box of medication to read the fine print. Her stomach fluttered pleasantly in stark contrast to the pain in the rest of her body.

He stole candy from his niece.

He got the pizza he hated and she loved.

He walked up to the counter where some teenager was probably working with a woman's painkillers in hand for her.

"Kol?"

Her heart raced, fit to burst with the words she just couldn't hold in anymore.

His mouth moved, silently twisting around words that most doctors couldn't pronounce.

"Kol?" She said his name a little louder, pushing up on her elbow. One of her fuzzy socks was just about ready to fall off, hanging from her toes.

"Yes, darling?" He reached over and tugged the sock back in place.

"I love you." She had been on the verge of saying it for weeks… months… really since the first night they made love.

And now the words hung between them.

He said it a few nights back when he thought she was asleep, and her heart had nearly leapt out of her chest, but he thought she was asleep so she refrained from saying it back. Even though she wanted to. Even though she had held it in since June.

She saw the grin breaking out across his face, but he was still Kol, and Kol wouldn't be Kol without at least one smart remark.

"As well you should."

She laughed, cracking her first smile of the day as she gave his shoulder a light shove. He caught her wrist and brought her arm up, pressing a quick to the inside of her wrist.

Leaning forward he brushed another kiss over her lips.

"I love you, too." Sitting back on his knees he waved his other hand, making the pill bottle rattle. "Where did we land on the alcohol?"

"I asked my OB that years ago," she took the bottle and twisted off the cap. Breaking the seal she shook two white pills into her palm. "She said it was okay and that the warning is there, mainly for people who have three or more drinks a day."

"You're unlikely to have that in a week," he took a bottle of water from the bag, watching as she used it to swallow both pills at once. "Shall I open the wine? Or would you prefer to stick with water?"

"Pizza and candy and wine?" She closed the water and pressed the cool plastic to the back of her neck. "You're being perfect right now, you know that?"

"That was my goal," he nodded sagely. "I also used my phone to queue up a few horror movies on Netflix."

"You hate horror," she smiled.

"I think the tropes are cliché."

"That's half the fun of watching," her eyes sparkled. She tilted her head and pursed her lips, nodding to herself. Yup, she definitely loved him.

"Break out the wine and be prepared for me to get really sleepy after one glass," she warned, standing up. "I'll be right back."

She left him in the living area and walked into his bathroom to clean up. Once she felt a little less disgusting she took a second to run the brush through her hair. Then she returned to the living room where he had brought out napkins, plates and wine glasses.

He selected one of the many films he found as she settled in the corner, sitting sideways to fold her legs across his lap.

She sipped at her wine and devoured three slices of pizza that he wisely chose not to comment on, plus the hot peppers he picked off his own pieces of pizza. By the time they got to the candy the pain killers kicked in and she felt pleasantly numb but aware of every dull throb deep inside of her.

At least three people had met their end by the axeman's blade when the elevator dinged. She blinked tiredly, exchanging a confused look with Kol as he paused the movie just at the moment the heroine ran for the attic.

Why did everyone always run for the attic? It made no sense.

"Were we expecting someone?" He frowned.

"We're never expecting anyone," Elena shook her head, sucking on a piece of chocolate.

She had barely crumpled the wrapper when someone slipped through the half open doors and flounced into the living room in a flurry of blue tulle.

"Hope," her eyes widened.

"Hi Elena," she smiled a broad grin that showed off all of her teeth. "What are you doing?"

"Well, right now I'm watching a movie with your uncle," she smiled, reluctantly swinging her legs onto the floor.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed, bunny?" Kol cocked an eyebrow as Hope bounced, clearly on a sugar high.

Elena suspected the three year old would crash long before her head found a pillow.

"I'm not a bunny today," she shook her head.

"Of course not," he agreed, "you are a little witch." He reached out, flicking the brim of her black hat. The blue and purple bow wiggled.

"An adorable little witch," Elena added.

"A manipulative little witch," a masculine voice came from the elevator.

Elena looked up, swallowing when Lucien strutted in next to Freya. His cunning eyes surveyed the table and she braced herself for something.

"What's manipulative?" Hope scrabbled up on the couch, wedging her little body between Kol and Elena.

"Someone who likes to control a situation," Freya laughed, crossing her arms.

"Oh," Hope nodded, pursing her full lips. "How come I'm a manipulative little witch?"

"Because," Lucien crouched, "you used those big blue eyes and cute little pout to trick us into taking you trick-or-treating again."

"Oh yeah," Hope grinned. She held up the bag to her uncle's nose. "Trick-or-treat."

"I'm sorry, bunny, I don't have any halloween candy. We ate it all," he pointed to the wrappers.

"No candy," Lucien's eyes flickered over Elena's 'comfy' clothes, "I think that means you get a trick."

"If I say trick-or-treat do I get some of that wine?" Freya glanced at the table.

"She is in costume," Lucien smirked. "Are you in costume Elena? That's not your going out attire."

"Yes," she drawled, rolling her eyes, "can't you tell? I'm obviously a hot mess."

"Well certainly a mess," he smirked.

"Careful, Lucien," Kol warned, sweet smile in place for Hope.

"I only have eyes for one mate," he held out his hands. His right hand slid over Freya's velvet clad hip. "And she is the loveliest."

"Keep your hands off my sister," his eyes narrowed.

"You do realize we're engaged," Freya rolled her eyes, "and also, that I'm older than you are. Don't pull the protective big brother routine. It only works on Rebekah."

"Hello," Hope waved her arms, "it's trick-or-treat."

"How about an IOU?" Elena snickered. "You don't trick us and we'll bring you candy later."

"Reese's cups?" Hope narrowed her eyes.

"Reese's cups," Kol promised from her other side, "and a peanut butter blast milkshake with whipped cream on the bottom."

She considered them, turning her head back and forth, hitting their noses with the tip of her hat each time, before nodding decisively.

"Okay," she wiggled until her patent leather shoes hit the floor. Then she ran between Lucien and Freya, grabbing their hands to pull them bodily towards the elevator.

And for a three year old she was strong. Of course if they mentioned that to Hope she would roll her eyes and get her father's exasperated look as she declared that she was almost four.

"I guess that means we're going." Lucien remarked. They called goodbye from the elevator, and to his credit they made it down three floors before he opened his mouth.

"We're really not saying anything about that?"

"They'll talk about it when they're ready," Freya shook her head, adjusting her black hat.

"It's been months," he shook his head, casting his eyes to the bouncing child as she unwrapped a bright pink sucker. "Nik made her faster than those two have opened their mouths."

"Very different situation," she reached down and hoisted Hope up. Their tulle skirts mixed in a horrible clash of orange-black and blue-purple.

"So we're not going to talk about what Kol and Elena are doing," he sighed.

"What are they doing?" Hope mumbled, lips puckering at the tart burst of strawberry.

"Sleeping together," he smirked.

"Nuh-uh," she popped the sucker out of her mouth. "They weren't sleeping. They were watching a movie."

"Never grow up, kid," Lucien laughed and reached out to gently tug on a red curl.

"But then I don't get to be big and stay up late and watch movies like uncle Kol and Elena," she popped the sucker back into her mouth.

"I'm pretty sure your daddy would prefer you never watched movies like Kol and Elena," he dodged the elbow before it could dig in his stomach.

"Why not?"

"Because they were watching scary grown up movies," Freya shook her head. "You don't like scary movies, remember? They give you bad dreams."

"What scary movie did she watch?" He whispered.

"Snow White," Freya smiled over Hope's head. "That witch was really scary, wasn't she, sweet girl?"

"Mmhmm," Hope laid her head on Freya's shoulder.

"And Kol and Elena were watching scarier movies," Freya rubbed her back, "you don't want to watch those, do you, sweetie?"

"Uh-uh."

* * *

**November 1, 2020**

* * *

Light refracted off dozens of different surfaces, dazzling anybody who looked long enough at the display cases.

Men in expensive suits lingered near high end displays, examining watches that cost more than midrange cars, or necklaces meant for wives and girlfriends.

As he passed behind one such man he had to fight back the disgusted curl of his lip and the strong desire to take him outside and instil a lesson or five in his perfectly coifed head; the blonde was explaining how the diamond tennis bracelet was meant for his girlfriend while sporting a very obvious wedding band and flirting with the young woman behind the counter.

"Do you think she'll like it?" He smiled, draping the glittering strands around the associate's wrist. "It's to be an apology for working so much lately."

"I'm certain she'll adore it," the woman's voice strained tighter than her forced smile. Her eyes flickered over the blonde's shoulder as she replaced the bracelet in a long box.

He had saved his sisters from enough unwanted attention to recognize the desperate need to escape a situation.

If he ever acted like that he prayed someone came along to knock some sense into him. Not that he had to hope for intervention, in the impossible scenario he still had three older brothers who would gladly tell him what an idiot he was and two sisters that would happily slap him up one side and down the other.

"Pardon me, love," he leaned against the counter, flashing her a dazzling smile as he quickly read her name tag. "You are clearly a woman of exquisite taste, Monique, and I wonder if you might help me."

She sized him up quickly, likely deciding if he would be better or worse than her current client, and came to a decision.

"Of course," she turned to the left, calling as she did. "Aiden, can you ring up this bracelet?"

She slipped the box into her co-workers hand and moved along the cases.

"I do apologize if I cost you a commission," he murmured, meeting her near a break in the cases. His eyes darted to three bracelets displayed on a silk scarf, the middle would be perfect for Rebekah's Christmas present, but he still had a few weeks before he really needed to think about that.

"Don't worry about it," she sighed, relieved when he didn't try to flirt with her, "Aiden will make sure I get it, and thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome, love," he nodded, smiling, "far be it from me to leave a lady in an uncomfortable situation."

"Oh no," she pretended to groan, "you're not gonna start flirting are you?"

"No, love," he chuckled, shaking his head, "it's a force of habit. I tend to call everyone 'love'. The pet names become more endearing when I'm interested, not that I wouldn't be," he held out his hands when she gave him a bemused expression, "if I weren't happily involved, that is."

"You're Kol Mikaelson, right?" She tilted her head. "The Senator running for President?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously when he nodded. "I didn't know you were involved. There will be a lot of heart broken women around the country when that gets out."

"I like to keep my private life private," he shrugged, "it's rather hard on a relationship when the paparazzi won't leave your significant other alone. Though I do wonder what's going to happen when they find out what I came in here to buy?"

"I'm assuming jewelry of some kind," she smirked. "Probably the type that very loudly declares intentions."

"You would assume right," he followed as she motioned him down a few more cases.

Keys jingled as she slid open a display case, mingling with the chatter of the till spitting out a receipt. A woman's manicured nails tapped the top of another case a few feet away.

"Something like one of these," she laid out a tray of precious stones cut in a variety of styles.

He examined them carefully, scrutinizing each one as his stomach sank. None of them were right. His eyes shut for a moment as he sighed, when he opened them he spotted a small selection of rings towards the back of the case.

"Can I see those?" He nodded.

"Of course," Monique replaced the first set and pulled out a second tray. "Most of these rings are a vintage style, but a couple of them are actually antiques sold to the store."

She smiled when he picked up one. It wasn't a classic ring, but the opal's subtle colours would catch anyone's attention. Flecks of palest green and softest purple glinted in the bright store lights; several small diamonds decorated the rose gold band.

"That one came from an estate sale," she explained quietly. "It's from the twenties, and just a little art deco."

"You could at least admit to dating her before picking out expensive jewelry."

"Of all the jewelry stores in all the world," Kol stiffened at first, relaxing when the familiar voice clicked. A smirk tugged up the corner of his mouth as he turned. "Why would I admit what everyone clearly already knows?"

"Because we've all been waiting for you two to say something," Klaus held Hope's hand. "It's been an unspoken agreement."

"So Caroline didn't keep her mouth shut," he shook his head.

"No, we all heard about the FaceTime call." Klaus smirked, mirth glittering in his eyes.

"Oh bloody hell," Kol hung his head.

"What's that?" Hope pointed to his hand, stretching up on tiptoe to look at the ring between his fingers. "It's pretty."

"You think so?" He crouched, holding the ring up for Hope's inspection. He could sense Monique and the security guard watching him and would have bristled if it weren't standard procedure and if he weren't so nervous.

He was pretty sure the butterflies on Hope's sweater were fluttering in his stomach.

"Uh huh," she nodded, rubbing the opal with her finger. "I like the colours. Is it for auntie Bex, or auntie Freya?"

"I've got other people I buy jewelry for bunny," he smiled.

"Is it for me?" Hope's eyes went wide.

"I think you might be a little young for a ring like that, sweetheart," Klaus barked a laugh and bent, lifting Hope to rest on his hip.

"I'm too little for everything," she sighed.

"You'll get bigger," Kol promised, eyes glinting, "and give daddy heartburn and a headful of grey hair."

"Never get that big, Hope," Klaus held the back of her head and looked in her wide eyes. "Stay daddy's little girl forever, please."

"Okay, daddy," she nodded, smirking.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Kol turned his attention back to the ring, the slightest inklings of doubt clung to the back of his skull. "Picking up a 'thank-you-for-dealing-with-my-sugar-high-little-witch' gift for Freya."

"Not enough diamonds in the world," he rolled his eyes. "I was picking up a Christmas present for Caroline."

"So you two are on again?"

"I can't just buy her a gift?"

"You can," Kol nodded, "but most gifts in this store send a message." He turned the ring over in his hands. "Do you think she'll like it?"

Klaus plucked the ring from his little brother's hand and held it up. He could see it on her hand, sitting proudly like it was made to be there.

"I think she'll love it," he hummed. "And I think I'll hear just how much she loves it from Caroline a few days before finding ring catalogues in with my mail."

"You're not going to tell me it's too soon, or say I'm rushing into things?" Kol tilted his head.

To him it didn't feel too soon. He had known for a while how he felt about her. He had dreamt of her dressed in white too many times to count, and he had woken up next to her enough times to realize he never wanted to wake up with anyone else. And after she had skillfully bribed a sugar high Hope he had known he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and one day deal with their own children.

Their children with her bright smile and his mischievous eyes.

Man, their kids would be a handful.

He couldn't wait.

"Too soon?" Klaus scoffed, handing the ring back. "Freya called it that day she shoved you in the mud. You two have been twenty-eight years in the making. So no, brother, I don't think it's too soon."

"Twenty-eight years, really?" Monique spoke up, a dreamy smile on her lips. "And she pushed you in the mud?"

"More than once," he smiled fondly at the memory. "I'll take this one Monique."

"Will you need it resized?" She locked up the display case and set the ring in a velvet lined box.


	8. November 3, 2020

**November 3, 2020**

* * *

Elena watched the numbers slowly adjust on screen as the polls started closing down from her corner of the couch.

It had been a vicious back and forth for hours.

“How are we doing?” Rebekah plopped down in an overstuffed armchair and passed a fruity drink to Elena.

“How are we doing?”

“It’s pretty even so far,” she made no comment on how Rebekah referred to the incoming results as a show of solidarity. “It looks like we claimed Virginia though.”

“It’s cause the people here know Damon a little better than the rest of the country,” she snorted, muttering into her cocktail a word that sounded suspiciously like ‘asshole’.

“Petition to start a revolution if he makes it into office,” Caroline stretched out across the couch and propped her feet in Elena’s lap.

“We’re right behind you, babe,” Elena patted her barefoot.

“You ladies really don’t like that guy,” Marcel commented, glancing up from his cellphone as he sat in the corner.

They all chimed in at the same time, declaring Damon to be a complete douche.

“Caroline, you realize you’re taking up three seats, right?” Kol leaned over the back of the sofa.

“Your point?” She lifted her brows and poked at Elena’s belly with her big toe.

“My point is that a lot of people are milling about the mansion tonight and that some of them might like to sit down,” he glanced towards Elena.

“I’m sorry did you want to sit down?” She smiled sweetly.

“That would be nice.”

Caroline swung her legs around and scooted to make room, pushing up until she sat directly beside Elena. “There you go.”

He eyed the empty space and then Caroline’s laughing eyes.

“Something wrong Kol?” She smirked, daring him to tell her to move.

“Nothing, love,” he smirked. Two could play that game. He knew that she knew and that everyone in the house knew, just as Elena had been made aware of the situation. Somebody had to break and say something first, and it certainly wasn’t going to be him.

He had no intention of introducing Elena as his old friend turned girlfriend. There was an entirely different moniker he had in mind for her, and he wasn’t saying a word until he could use it.

He just needed to get her alone.

As the evening progressed his frustration grew because everyone seemed to have it in their head to get between him and the love of his life.

They delighted in it.

He could tell Elena was getting more than a little annoyed when he caught her looking at him longingly a few times.

With the closing of Washington his party pulled distinctly into the lead, and when someone explained to a very tired Hope who had crawled out of bed she gave a big cheer, then she fell asleep against Caroline.

That was also the moment he realized Elena had snuck away.

After twenty-eight years he knew where she would be. She had her habits and her vices and her favourite rooms.

As he tiptoed beyond the front doors and ignored the gathering of reporters outside he went over the list in his head. There was a guest room she stayed in from time to time, Rebekah’s room and Elijah’s study.

He doubted she would have fled upstairs, too many people could have stopped her on the way with a myriad of questions. And she had always loved that study.

He loved that study.

He loved the towering shelves, the smell of old books and the sturdy desk he may or may not have dreamed about utilizing when he was still in law school and Elena had walked in for a book clad in only a white bikini. He had fantasized about sweeping the contents off that desk, tossing her lightly on top, and hooking her bottoms to the side too many times to count. His dreams were filled in with experiences and now on the occasion he took care of himself he saw her smooth skin contrasting with purest white as he filled her again and again while she writhed and begged for more.

Maybe he’d bend her over that desk someday.

Maybe he’d bend her over that desk tonight.

“Elena?” He opened the door.

As he suspected she was inside. She had perched herself on the desk and was swinging her legs back and forth while biting her thumb nail.

And damn if that sight didn’t do things to him.

“I thought you’d be hiding in here,” he shut the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. The velvet box brushed his fingers.

“I uh…” she moved her hand down to the desk and rubbed her lips together, “I just needed a little space, a little quiet.”

“Is this a no company kind of quiet?” He paused a few feet away from her and tilted his head. “Do you want me to give you a little more space?”

“No,” she lowered her eyes, “I think I was hoping you’d follow me.”

“I’ll always follow you, darling,” he smirked.

“You’re gonna be pretty busy soon,” her stomach trembled, and she bit her lip to stop it from trembling too. “You’re winning,” she shrugged, forcing a cheer into her voice that she didn’t really feel.

“You don’t sound happy about it,” he blinked, tilting his head. It was hard to get a read on her when she wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m happy for you,” she shrugged. “I’m just a little sad too; I guess that means we’re done.”

“What?” His brows rose as his heart stilled. “I don’t want us to be done.” He took his hands from his pockets and placed them on her knees. “I never want us to be done; I want the opposite.”

“Come on, Kol,” she sighed. Her lashes glittered. “How can you want the opposite? I’m a potential embarrassment.”

“Is this about that stupid folder?” His brows rose.

“I’m not good enough,” she bit her cheek, “isn’t that what he was saying?”

“Screw that folder,” he picked up her chin. “I don’t care a bloody bit about where you came from Elena, and if this country or government does then it’s filled with idiots. I never want this to be over, darling, never. And if people want to impeach me for it so be it.”

“I love you, Elena Gilbert,” his thumb caressed her chin.

“I love you too,” she held his wrist as he slid his fingers into her hair. “God, Kol, I love you so much; I didn’t think I could love anybody this much.”

He rubbed a tear from the corner of her eye.

“No more tears, my love,” he kissed her cheek, “because if you cry then I’m going to cry and I’ll never get this out.”

“Get what out?” She sniffed.

He kissed a line to her ear and breathed deeply.

“I want to spend my life with you,” he listened to her breath catch, “I want to wake up next to everyday and memorize the pillow creases on your face. I want to make love to you on every flat surface I can find. I want to have children with you and watch them slowly drive us insane. I want to fight over the bloody toothpaste cap, and pizza toppings and stupid things I did to you when I was eleven.”

“Kol,” her voice warbled. The question of whether he had really thought things through was answered when he sank to his knee and produced a small velvet box.

“I want to introduce you to everyone we meet as Elena Mikaelson.” He lifted the lid. “I want to marry you.”

“Are you crazy?” Her hand came up to her lips as her eyes took in the oval stone. “It’s only been five months, eight if you say when I got on the bus. Think of the scandal,” but already her lips were tipping up behind her hand.

“I don’t care about the scandal,” he shook his head. “And as far as timing goes it’s been a lot longer than eight months. Twenty-eight years, Elena; we’ve known each other twenty-eight years. And I think I was in love with you long before kissing you in the alley; it just took a little while to figure it out.”

“You are it for me,” he plucked the ring from the box and took her left hand, holding it poised over her ring finger. “Will you take this ring and be my wife?” He started to frown when her eyes shimmered. “Or if you don’t like it we can pick out another one.”

“I don’t want another ring,” she shook her head, laughing softly. “I want this one, and I want you. And I want everything you said.”

“So…”

“Yes,” she nodded. Her tears fell as the ring was placed on her finger. “Yes.”

“Yes?” He stood up and cupped her cheeks, pressing joyous kiss after joyous kiss on her lips and all over her smiling face.

“I love you,” she murmured, wrapping her thighs around his hips and clinging to his shirt. “Now if you could just stop squeezing the toothpaste from the middle.”

“The day you put the cap back on,” he rolled his eyes.

She smiled into his kiss and pushed her fingers up into his hair. She tasted salt on his lips and realized it was because he was crying too when she pulled back a few inches.

“We just got engaged,” she breathed.

“We did,” he nudged her cheek with his nose.

“And we’re alone,” she dragged the back of his shirt up and teased his spine.

“We are,” he dropped his hands to her knees and inched his fingers up until they were beneath the hem of her oversized sweater.

“My new ring is so beautiful,” she brought out her left hand and wiggled her fingers. Her right hand dipped low and squeezed.

“It is,” he agreed, kissing the tip of her finger.

“Kind of makes everything else I’m wearing look frumpy,” she pursed her lips, glad her monthly visitor had left earlier that morning. “Like maybe I shouldn’t be wearing it anymore.”

“I think you might be right,” he smirked, feeling his pants become uncomfortable. He reached under her sweater and grabbed her leggings.

Elena brought her hands down and gave a little hop as he dragged them from her body. He took her underwear with him and left her in sweater as he knelt to remove her socks.

Another fuzzy set.

He dropped them in a small pile and nipped at her inner thighs.

She let him lave at her legs for a moment before she pulled off her sweater, and unhooked her bra; she let it fall before leaning back and hooking her legs around his shoulders.

“What do you think?” She laid her left hand on his cheek.

“I think this is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you,” he turned, kissing her wrist.

The cool press of his lips sent a shiver down her spine.

“There’s just one problem,” she hummed. “I hate being the only one naked.”

He stripped off his shirt and rose, grinning stupidly when she reached for his belt. The leather slackened. She crossed her legs around his waist and reached for his erection, pumping him slowly.

“We’re gonna get married,” he whispered, laying kisses up and down her throat. He slipped one hand between her legs and rubbed, marvelling at the arousal already gathered. “You’re going to be Mrs. Kol Mikaelson.”

“I’ll be yours,” she mewled, “for the rest of our lives.” A gush of juices flooded her channel. “You’ll be mine,” she whispered.

“You’re going to be a very possessive wife, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “My beautiful bride.”

“You know it,” she giggled, “nobody else gets you but me. In fact,” she shivered, lining him up with her entrance, “I want that ring on your finger as soon as possible, so the entire world knows you’re mine.”

“Bloody hell, Elena,” he groaned, staring into her sultry eyes. “Tell me you’re ready because I need to be in you.”

She grasped the back of his head with her free hand and kissed him, breathing against his parted lips. “I’ve been ready since you said I love you.”

She dug her heels into his back, gasping as he pushed forwards, filling her agonizingly slowly.

He took his time, savouring the familiar hug of her walls and the way she moaned her pleasure.

“Lay back, darling,” he panted.

She obliged, gasping loudly as his length shifted with her moving body. She used her elbows to prop herself up.

His large hands unwrapped her legs from his waist and pushed, urging her knees to bend until he pressed them down to her chest. The new angle opened her up and as he pushed in she felt him reach spots that made her see stars.

And why had they never tried this position before?

There would be a lifetime of new positions to try out, and many new things as well. There was one thing she had never done with anybody but always been curious about. She just hadn’t trusted any of her past lovers to offer or agree when they inevitably asked.

He thrust slowly, pushing her higher and higher with every stroke.

He hadn’t asked her.

That didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it. He did like to spread her cheeks when he took her from behind.

She thought of how gentle he had been the first night, talking to her and pretending for a moment that it had been her first time.

“Kol?” She pushed up higher and somehow managed to reach his lips for a long kiss. “When we’re married…”

“Mm, say that again,” he rotated his hips, murmuring against her parted lips.

“When,” she gasped, dropping her head back, “when I’m your wife, and when you’re my husband,” she tightened her pelvic muscles, squeezing as he groaned, “I’d like to try something, but only if you want to,” she added.

Her eyes drifted shut as he picked up his pace, likely imagining all manner of salacious.

“I’m open to anything you want to try, darling,” he grunted. Sweat glistened on his torso, making his straining muscles shine. “All you need do is ask.”

She moaned, imagining him behind her and spreading her cheeks. The taboo nature of what she was about to ask brought a flush to her chest. It also made the coil in her belly impossibly tight and she slipped a hand between her legs to circle her clit.

He growled at the sight and thrust a little harder.

“What do you want Elena? What would you like me to do?” His fingers dug into her thighs.

“I…” she moaned, feeling her legs start to shake. Her train of thought cut off as she came and milked him, nearly pushing him over the edge as well.

When she opened her eyes his jaw was clenched tight and the muscles in his neck stood out with the strain of holding out.

“I want you to take my virginity.” Her statement made his brow wrinkle and she giggled.

His eyes narrowed, dropping to where he was very clearly filling her.

And doing a pretty decent job of it.

Then realization started to dawn in his eyes.

“You mean?” His hand left her thigh and grasped her butt, gently pulling.

“I’ve been curious since the first person asked me to try it,” she admitted, blushing.

The tip of his finger circled the tight sphincter and she moaned as hundreds of previously unexplored nerve endings lit up.

Her walls fluttered again, harder and faster than before. She was pretty sure she blacked out for a second, but if so it was only a second.

If it was that intense just being touched she shuddered to think of how it would feel with his entire length inside of her, taking her as he was in that moment.

How would it feel when he released inside?

“You’ve never done this before,” he moaned, thrusting long and slow.

She shook her head. “I never trusted anyone not to accidentally hurt me,” she bit her bottom lip. “But I trust you.”

He swore under his breath as he came and collapsed half on top of her. He stayed inside as he filled her body with his seed and went soft, looking into her slightly nervous eyes.

“I love you Elena,” he panted, kissing the corner of her open mouth. They traded slow, probing kisses for a moment as peace settled around them.

“I love you,” he repeated, “and I would be honoured to be your first.”

“You’ll be my only,” she giggled.

“I like the sound of that,” he grinned. “When would you like to try?”

“Oh, I was thinking our wedding night,” her eyes sparkled playfully.

“You’re gonna make me wait for it,” he pretended to groan.

“I’m very old fashioned that way,” she adopted her prim and proper southern belle accent while curling her shaking thighs around his waist. “No sex until the wedding mister. I can’t be defiled before my wedding night. Imagine the gossips, just clutching their pearls.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already defiled you,” he slipped out of her body and chuckled when she whined, “and you’ll be all over me to defile you again long before we get to that aisle.”

“Depends how long the wait is,” she teased.

“Either way, the anticipation is going to drive you wild,” he winked.

“I have a feeling that’s actually going to be you, whispering dirty things in my ear,” she shook her head.

Suddenly she dropped her head back with a low groan.

“What is it, my lovely fiancé?”

Her heart fluttered and she smiled, but stress was mounting quickly.

“Do you know how hard its going to be to plan a wedding when you’re in office?” She pushed up on her elbows, rising higher when he stood until they were both upright.

“That’s going to be a bloody nightmare,” he bit his cheek. “I guess we’ll just have to get married before the inauguration.”

“That’s in January,” she shook her head. “Thats a little more than two months. It’s seventy-nine days.”

“Well less,” Kol kissed the tip of her nose. “Because I fully intend on having a honeymoon with you. What about Christmas Eve?”

“Christmas Eve?” She shrieked. “Are you nuts? That’s fifty days! We can’t plan a wedding and organize a honeymoon in fifty days! You’d have to an organizational genius to pull that off. You’d have to be a neurotic control freak. You’d have to be Caroline!”

“Then I suppose it’s a very good thing she’s your best friend,” he lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want anything too ostentatious. I think fifty days is plenty of time for a small, tasteful wedding.”

“You’re forgetting that Bekah will also be involved in this,” she pressed her lips together.

“Tasteful, leaning on the side of elegant,” he amended. “Think about it, love. Christmas Eve. We’ll be man and wife before the new year, and if we’re married before inauguration we are unlikely to be annoyed by paparazzi. I’d hate for someone to publish a picture of your wedding dress before hand. Think of the bad luck.”

“Fifty days,” she took a deep breath and exhaled, “I guess we’d better tell the wedding planners.”

“Maybe clothes first,” he grinned.

When they stepped into the sitting room everyone looked up, but nobody bothered asking where they had been.

He couldn’t wait to knock those knowing looks off of their faces. It would be the first time a collective shock occurred since Nik revealed he’d knocked up his one-night stand. He thought the shock and shame was what triggered Mikael’s heart attack, not that anyone was sad to see the man go.

“Alaska’s about to close up,” Cami waved a bottle of chilled champagne. “And we’ve got a fifteen percent lead. There is no possible way you’re losing this.”

“Hold the champagne for a moment, love,” Kol reached behind him for Elena’s left hand, concealing the ring with his fingers. “We have an announcement.”

“If it's that you’re screwing each other’s brains out we already know,” Lucien waggled his eyebrows and ducked when Freya smacked him with a throw pillow.

“Actually, mate,” Kol’s eyes narrowed, “it’s something entirely different. And I’d like to introduce all of you to my lovely fiancé.”

Elena held out her hand to show off the ring, bracing herself for the loud shrieks, but there was nothing. And as she looked around the room it was to find her family and friends staring at the engagement ring with open mouths and wide eyes.

Everyone, with the exception of Klaus.

And Caroline being Caroline had to point that out first.

“Why are you not surprised?” She smacked lightly on his arm, whispering in a voice that carried around the room.

“Because unlike you, sweetheart,” he grinned from ear to ear, “I know how to keep a secret.”


	9. Christmas

**December 24, 2020**

* * *

She surveyed the ballroom in stolen glances between the dips and twirls when she had no choice but to look away from her new husband.

Husband.

Her gorgeous, brilliant husband.

Kol Mikaelson was her husband.

Given the choice she'd rather look at him than the masterpiece her best friends had somehow, against all odds, pulled off, but she had to admit they did an amazing job stringing up fairy lights with just the right amount of tulle.

All of her family, which admittedly wasn't much, was gathered around. Uncle John had not been happy about her wedding that to him came out of nowhere, but as she told him he was not her father, and truthfully he was hardly her uncle. Aunt Jenna took the news better and was even smiling and laughing in the corner with Elijah. And Jeremy had always been supportive.

Their small, tasteful, wedding came together easily.

Too easily.

"Do you think we'd get away with sneaking off early?" Kol twirled her into his arms. "I have a feeling the ease of planning is going to fly off when we get to speeches."

"I have a feeling you're eager to get me into bed, husband," she whispered.

"I have a feeling you're eager as well," his hand slid down her hip to rest dangerously low.

"Caroline would kill us," she drew her bottom lip into her mouth.

"As long as she kills us in the morning," he winked. "Then I can die a happy man."

"You really think Caroline would wait that long to enact revenge?" She laughed.

He chuckled and kissed her soundly.

* * *

"In conclusion," Caroline held up her glass, gesturing it towards the couple, "I despise you both for springing a wedding on me with less than two months to plan during the Christmas season and if you ever get divorced know that I will find you and murder you violently with an ax."

A round of laughter rose up.

"Is that your way of wishing us a long and happy life together?" Kol hugged Elena's waist. Every few minutes she would shift slightly and he'd smile, knowing exactly what was causing her 'discomfort'.

Caroline tipped up her glass again. "Yes Kol, but since I just went through the craziest month and a half of my life it is also a genuine threat."

"I have a question," Elena said, sipping her champagne, "what if he drives me absolutely crazy, and one day I just snap?"

"If that happens I'll help you kill him and hide the body where nobody will find him," she nodded decisively, "but you're never getting divorced."

"They're never getting divorced," Freya shook her head and grinned. Digging into her handbag she took out a tiny remote and pressed a single button that lit up a small projector. "I mean really, this was a vow renewal if anything."

A couple of pictures flashed onto the far wall.

"Oh, wow," Elena leaned into Kol's embrace, "you took pictures of that?"

"I had to," Freya shrugged, "it was my baby brother's wedding, and it was adorable."

"What exactly are we looking at?" Jeremy leaned on the table.

"You're looking at our first wedding," Elena smiled from ear to ear. "I was five at the time and Rebekah declared we had to have a wedding, and since the only boys around at that moment were her brothers I got to be the bride and wear her frilly white dress with all the bows."

"It looks like my dress," Hope declared, standing on her chair to hold out her white skirt.

"It did look a bit like your dress, sweetheart," Klaus nodded. "Someone remind me. How did you get Kol roped into that? He was seven years old and girls had cooties."

"It was something about a lamp and Esther," Elena thought back.

"I broke her favourite lamp," he nodded, "that really ugly green thing I think she bought in the sixties. Bex, over there, threatened to tell mother. So I had to put on my best Sunday suit and we got married in the yard by the fountain."

"If you already got married, why'd you do it all again?" Hope threw up her hands and looked at all of the adults like they were the strangest creatures she had ever seen.

"Well, legally speaking, our first marriage wasn't recognized," Kol smiled.

"Also there was a fair bit of coercion involved," Elena's eyes darted to Rebekah. The blonde hid her grin by taking a drink of champagne.

"Rebekah made you two kiss, do you remember?" Freya clapped her hands.

"I remember that he wiped it off and said 'yuck'," Elena smirked.

"I doubt he's wiping off your kisses now," Caroline smirked.

"That I do not," Kol winked before catching Elena's lips in a kiss.

"Eww!" Hope wrinkled her nose.

"Could you two keep your hands off each other long enough to make it to the honeymoon?" Klaus rolled his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous Nik," he kissed Elena's cheek, "we don't fly out until boxing day."

"Then I beg of you both, retire," Finn adjusted his son on his knee when he dove off Sage's lap.

"Well if you insist," Kol smirked, hopping to his feet.

"Once a king, always a king, once a night is enough," Klaus murmured, lifting his glass.

"Oh it'll be more than once," he offered his blushing bride a hand up to the snickers of their family and friends.

"Keep it clean Kol, there are children present," Caroline crossed her arms.

"What will be more than once?" Hope turned her blue eyes on her father.

"Now it's definitely time for the honeymoon," Kol declared. Bending at the waist he hoisted Elena into his arms.

"Kol," she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She managed to get in a quick goodnight before he carried her out of the room and up the stairs.

"What will be more than once?" Hope repeated, dropping to sit in her chair. "Where are they going? What are auntie Elena and uncle Kol going to do? It's too early to sleep."

Caroline delighted for a second in Klaus' lost expression before coming to his aid with the first thought she could come up with.

"They're going to jump on a trampoline and see how high they can get."

"Oh," Hope nodded, accepting the explanation with the innocence of a three, almost four, year old. Though Caroline was starting to wonder how many of their coded sentences were registering as coded when the child's next sentence came the second Klaus took a drink.

"I like trampolines."

Water spewed across the table into Elijah's face.

* * *

**December 25, 2020**

* * *

Everybody was sleeping and it wasn't right.

It just wasn't right.

It's like they didn't know there were presents to open.

So she was perfectly justified in running into daddy's bedroom and jumping on his bed. Perfectly justified was something Uncle Elijah taught her. It meant that it was okay to do something you knew you normally shouldn't do because you had a really good reason for it.

Presents were a good reason.

Presents were an excellent reason.

Auntie Freya taught her excellent.

Besides, daddy was always up early.

She scrambled atop the bench at the end of the bed, tiptoed between the lumps under the blanket and started jumping.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," she sang. "It's Christmas! Wake up!"

She jumped and screeched and waved her arms until she fell.

"We're awake," daddy said. His voice was low. He sounded like he was asleep.

"Nuh uh," Hope shook her head. She turned and pushed at the second lump in the bed. "Wake up," she dragged out the word as she shook.

"No," a muffled voice came from the pillow. "It's too early."

"Up, up, up," she shouted. That was a word daddy taught her; it meant talking really loudly.

"Too early," a hand poked out and waved over her face, gently prodding her cheeks and nose.

"Caroline," she giggled, squirming, "what are you doing?"

"I'm searching for the snooze button," Caroline looked at daddy and closed one eye.

"Oh no, sweetheart," daddy shut one eye too, "you'll never find it that way. The snooze button is down here."

Daddy's finger poked her belly button. It tickled.

"No, no," Caroline sat up on her arm, "that's the giggle button."

Daddy poked her again. She laughed and squirmed. Uncle Finn taught her squirmed. It meant she couldn't sit still like daddy and uncle Kol.

"You might be right, love," daddy nodded. "I think we have to accept that children don't come with snooze buttons."

"I suppose so," Caroline nodded. Then she smirked. Auntie Bex taught her smirk; it was a smile that was more than a smile and said someone was thinking of doing something silly. Uncle Kol and Lucien liked to smirk a lot.

Caroline reached up and started tickling her.

"Hey," she laughed, pushing at her hands. But when Caroline stopped he started. "Daddy!"

She pushed him away and took a deep breath. Then she poked his nose and gave him her stern look. Uncle Lucien taught her stern; it was how Uncle Elijah looked at Kol when he was in trouble.

"Stop that, it's time to get up."

"Why is it time to get up?" Caroline frowned and dropped back onto her pillow.

"Because it's Christmas," she threw up her hands.

"Oh no," Caroline looked at daddy and closed one eye again.

Why did they keep closing one eye?

"I distinctly remember there being a Christmas last year."

"I remember that too," daddy nodded.

"Ugh, Christmas is every year." She shook her head and crawled off the bed, reached up and tugged on daddy's arm. "I thought grown-ups were smart."

"We're smarter after coffee," Caroline laughed. She stood up on the other side of the bed and reached for a sweater.

"Yucky coffee after presents."

"Now, sweetheart," daddy sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her into his lap, "what happens before presents?"

She scrunched up her nose and tapped her chin. "Wake up?"

"First we wake up," he poked her nose, "then we have breakfast."

"Then let's have breakfast," she wiggled back to the floor.

"As a family, Hope," daddy laughed, "and not everybody is awake."

"I can fix that." She ran out into the hall.

* * *

His nose skimmed her shoulder and sent little tingles down her spine to meet with the shocks ignited beneath the fingers drawing abstract patterns over her stomach.

She wiggled a little, unable to keep still under the gentle ministrations, and giggled, mumbling sleepily.

"Is that an early Christmas present I feel?"

"I think I gave this one to you many times last night," he chuckled, leaving open mouthed kisses on the back of her arm.

His semi-hard erection slipped between her legs and rubbed through her folds. Arousal coated his length as he gently rolled his hips.

"I married an insatiable man," she giggled, sliding her left leg higher to grant him better access.

"We're newlyweds, my love, we get to be insatiable," his teeth tugged on her earlobe.

"Does that mean the novelty will wear off?" She smirked, glancing towards the door.

"Never," he swore. "I swear to you darling. I will wake you everyday with a kiss."

"Just a kiss?" She pretended to pout.

"I never said where the kiss would be," he kissed the sensitive juncture where her throat met her shoulder to punctuate his point. "Maybe it'll be here…" he dragged the tip of his index finger up towards the valley of her breasts, "or here," he moved back down, dipping his finger into her naval, "maybe I will poke my tongue here, or lower."

He dragged his hand over the curve of her hip and across her raised thigh, finding his way up the backside.

He was so close to touching her. His fingers were nearly there, nearly to her glistening folds and aching clit. It would have been nothing to make the final contact, but before he could the bedroom door banged open.

She gasped and clutched at the sheet, squishing her breasts beneath her arm. It was secured just in time for a small body to jump up on their bed.

"Wake up, wake up," Hope bounced.

Elena clutched the sheet tighter when the jumping girl threatened to tear it away with every overexcited bounce.

"Oh," Hope settled a little bit when they looked at her with raised brows. "You're up."

"We are," Elena pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile.

Hope lost a little of her enthusiasm as she looked around the bedroom at their discarded clothes. "You two are messy. Daddy says I always have to pick up my clothes. You're not supposed to leave them all over the floor."

"We'll make sure to pick them up," Elena felt a slight flush creep up her chest.

"Why aren't you wearing pyjamas?" Hope tilted her head. "Are you sick? I don't like wearing my pyjamas when I'm sick."

"We're not sick, bunny," Kol cleared his throat. "It was just very warm in here last night."

Elena pushed her elbow into his ribs.

"You need to get dressed for breakfast," she said simply and jumped down off the bed.

"Shut the door, Hope," Elena called after her retreating form.

The door remained wide open.

"Well," Kol ran a hand through his hair, "that'll kill a mood. Are we sure we want some of those?"

She fell back against the pillow and laughed. He joined in, knowing they were both looking forward to the day their own kids ran screaming down the halls on Christmas morning.

* * *

Less than an hour later, after everyone finally finished eating and torturing the kids with a waiting game they all found themselves in the sitting room. They sat scattered around on different pieces of furniture while Hope and Finn's daughter Lucy delivered presents.

Lucy had to help Hope read out the names though, since she was seven and Hope was almost four and couldn't read yet.

The little red head raced around delivering gifts.

Every present bore a single tag printed with the name of the recipient. And the first time Elena spent a Christmas with the family she had thought it really strange, but then they explained the game to her. They all tried to guess who gave them what.

It was a lot of fun.

She had a dozen open gifts that she had accurately guessed based on the contents. So far only one had been right from the wrapping paper.

"This one's for you," Hope beamed, shoving the small box into her hand.

"Thank you."

Elena tested the weight, tipped the box from side to side and frowned. The silver paper covered a reasonably slim box, narrow enough to be necklace; one of the ones stored in a cardboard box until opened.

"Kol?" She guessed. Because really, who else would give her jewelry.

He skimmed his knuckles up and down her arm while frowning at the box.

"It's not one of mine," he kissed the top of her head.

"Hmm?" She tore into the iridescent paper. As she thought the box beneath was simple, but when she lifted off the lid her heart thudded hard against her ribcage.

Her manicured nails gingerly picked the object up by the handle. It tinkled as she lifted it. A green silk ribbon tied in a bow decorated the top of the antique rattle's handle.

"Alright," she pointed around the room with the offending item, "who thinks they're being cute?"

Laughter, snickers and hidden smiles should have been indicators of guilt. They should have been. Under normal circumstances they would have been, but she highly doubted the entirety of his family and Caroline teamed up to pull a prank on them.

"Is that not fitting?" Rebekah covered her mouth with her hand as she stood to answer the doorbell.

"I think we were all of the same mind when you announced you were getting married so soon," Klaus snickered. He turned over the new leather bound sketchbook from Caroline as she mimed cocking a shotgun.

The action drew a snort from Finn of all people.

"Just for the record," she waved the tiny rattle around, "I am not pregnant."

"Yet," Kol's whispered breath didn't travel beyond her ear.

Out in the foyer Rebekah stilled as she opened the door. Her eyes raked over his dark jacket and up to his flushed face.

"What are you doing here?" She held the doorknob.

"I come bearing gifts," he smiled, holding up a brown envelope.

"You come bearing papers," she rolled her eyes, but stepped back, allowing him into the house. "This couldn't wait."

"I thought Elena might want it before flying out, and since they fly out at three in the morning it was today or the New Year."

Klaus saw them first when they returned and drew Kol and Elena's eyes to his presence.

"Marcel," Kol slid his hand down Elena's arm, cupping her elbow, "what are you doing here?"

"Merry Christmas," Hope grinned, looking up from the box of water colours she was enthusiastically unwrapping.

"I wanted to make sure Elena got this," he held up the folder. "Do you have a minute?"

Kol exchanged a look with his new bride and nodded, standing to offer her a hand off the couch.

"I think there's some coffee left in the kitchen," his arm slid around her back.

She set down the rattle and walked with him, her chest tightening with each hesitant step until she sat in a chair at the breakfast nook.

He opened the envelope and slid out a pile of papers while Kol retrieved three cups of coffee.

She picked up a photograph on top and tilted her head. A pair of cheerleaders stared back at her. The girl with the lighter hair possessed kind eyes and a bright smile while the other stared at the photographer in that way teenage girls did when they wanted to be taken seriously and thought of as older.

A woman's handwriting labeled the girls as Trudie Peterson and Isobel Flemming.

"It took some digging," Marcel explained, turning over a birth certificate, "but I found her. Isobel Flemming was born in Grove Hill. Her teenage best friend, that's Trudie, was kind enough to give me the picture. Isobel spent a lot of time in Mystic Falls, where she met a boy. Apparently Isobel wasn't the promiscuous sort, so that boy's likely your father."

"What happened to her? Where is she now?" Elena fingered the edged of the polaroid. There were a lot of pages stamped with an official looking logo that made the pit of her stomach fall.

"Are you sure you want to know this?" He angled the pages away, but she could tell they were from a police report.

"No," she straightened her spine, grateful for the supporting hand on her thigh, "but I need to know."

"Alright," Marcel flipped the pages around. The top one was a missing persons report. "She moved and took up a research position at Duke University. That's where she met her husband. They lived together in the area for four years, but sixteen years ago she disappeared."

She felt a sudden, overwhelming desire to curl into Kol and let him hold her.

"Suspicion fell on her husband, but nothing could be proven. As we know public opinion is powerful, and the opinions of him got so bad he had to relocate to, get this Mystic Falls."

"My… my birth mother's husband lives in Mystic Falls?" Her mind grasped at that fact.

"He was your high school history teacher," Marcel exhaled.

"Alaric Saltzman?" Kol frowned. He rubbed a small circle over her leg with his thumb.

"That's him," he nodded. "I looked him up to find out what he knows, and he's still in town."

"He's engaged to my aunt," she whispered, "he was at our wedding last night."

"And after your wedding I found him at his apartment with this pile of paperwork." He reached inside and pulled out another photograph.

This one was more recent and detailed than the last. She could actually see the green eyes staring up at her, laughing sadly at whoever held the camera. There was something in her gaze that betrayed an old heartbreak.

Had her father caused that?

"Alaric knew his wife had a child when she was a teenager. According to him she struggled with giving her daughter up and her greatest wish was to have her baby back, but there were some legal issues preventing it. Legal issues she told him she wasn't aware of when she gave you up."

"The birth certificate," Elena breathed, touching her fingers to her lips.

Marcel nodded, saying nothing about how she was gravitating into Kol's side.

"Legally speaking she wasn't your mother and trying to just take you back would have been kidnapping."

"Did Ric know why she gave me up?" She swallowed. "Does he know who I am?"

"I didn't tell him, but he knows that I work for Kol, so I'm pretty sure he deduced that it's you. And he did have an idea why."

She took a shaky breath and nodded for him to continue. One day she might talk to Ric about Isobel, but she didn't think she could face him yet. He was her former teacher and almost uncle, and now apparently her once sort-of step-dad; that sounded awkward as awkward could be.

"It took her some time to open up and share that part of her life with him, but she did. She told him that when she was sixteen she got pregnant by her teenage boyfriend and ran away from home. When it was time for her to have the baby, to have you, her boyfriend took her to his big brother's doctor's office. She stayed with you for three days, staying with the doctor and his wife. Maybe there was some postpartum depression, but she told him that when she saw this couple with you she felt like she couldn't give you a good life, so she left, and apparently regretted it very quickly. I never did get a name for the doctor or his brother…"

Marcel noted the bloodless cheeks and wide eyes.

"Darling," Kol twisted in his chair and reached for her cold hands, "it's alright."

"I can keep looking," he suggested.

Elena shook her head.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Marcel." He smoothed his thumbs across her knuckles. "We already know."

He made an excuse to leave, but Elena hardly noticed. Her eyes stared vacantly into the past, searching for every moment, each interaction.

"He knew," her vision grew misty as her heart thundered. "He knew… he knew that I knew and how much…"

Kol opened his arms as she fell forward and hugged her to his chest. He massaged her back with one hand and used the other to smooth her hair back from her cheek.

"It hurt," she sniffled, hating herself for the hot tears staining his shirt. "It hurt… he knew…"

"I know, Elena," he kissed the top of her head. "He should have told you the truth. He should have told you the truth a long time ago."

Goosebumps rose on her arms. They were meant to join her family for lunch before rejoining everyone at the mansion for dinner. Her family: Jenna, Jeremy, Alaric… John.

"I don't want to see him," she choked.

"Then we won't go to lunch," his fingers gently kneaded the back of her head.

"But…" she still wanted her family.

"We can set three extra places for Christmas dinner here. I'm sure they'll understand the situation." He cupped her chin and lifted her tear streaked face. "Or we could set two places if you prefer. Given the circumstances I don't think Alaric would mind."

Two, or three? She swallowed, struggling to catch her breath. If she hadn't had Jeremy she would have asked Alaric to give her away, he was the closest thing she had to a father figure now; she didn't want to exclude him.

"Three places," her voice came out reasonably level and she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Would you like me to call?" He nodded.

"I'll do it," she shook her head and stood, making her way to the old wall phone. "I can do this," she nodded when he stood up.

"I'll let everyone know we'll be joined for dinner tonight."

She punched in the seven digits that were as familiar to her as her own name and held the phone to her ear. Her eyes tracked him as he left the kitchen. Three rings went by before the call connected with a click.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey, Jer. Merry Christmas," she felt a fresh wave of tears flood her eyes.

_"Merry Christmas. What's with the early call? We're gonna see you in a few hours."_

"Actually you're not," she swallowed and twisted the phone cord around her fingers. "We can't make lunch."

_"I'm sure you two can drag yourselves away from each other for a couple of hours."_

She could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "That's not the reason. Bring Jenna and Ric to the mansion around 6:30, and I'll tell you a little more."

_"What about?"_

"I told you who to bring," she said more sharply then she meant to. "Sorry. Will I see you tonight?"

He hesitated for a moment before breathing.

_"How could I pass up an opportunity to nab some of Elijah's gingerbread?"_

"Just you three?"

_"Just us three."_


	10. January 20, 2021-June 4, 2020

**January 20, 2021**

* * *

"I'm going to go ahead and make an executive decision right now," Elena declared, fingering the strand of pearls. "I will never be caught dead wearing these."

"What's wrong with the necklace?" Rebekah didn't bother looking up from the rack of clothes.

"Seriously?" She spoke up over the racket of hangers. "Have you seen this thing? It looks like something Mrs. Lockwood would wear with one of her Peter Pan collar shirts."

"She's got a point, Bekah," Caroline picked up the box. "Who sent this stuff over?"

"Someone who wants me to look like a stuffy politician's wife?" Elena groaned, dropping her head onto her arms and knocking a curler loose.

"You are a stuffy politician's wife," Rebekah sneered, tossing a high collared black dress aside.

"I am not stuffy," her voice was muffled by her silk robe. She was thirty-three years old, not some sixty-something grandmotherly type who liked to stare down her nose at people and clutch her pearls when someone did something particularly scandalous.

"I think she was calling Kol stuffy," Caroline snickered.

"Kol's not stuffy either."

"Judging by how annoyed he got whenever someone dared interrupt your honeymoon he likes stuffing," Caroline waggled her eyebrows.

"Caroline," Elena groaned, a crimson flush crept up the back of her neck.

"Eww," Rebekah shoved away from the rack, "that's my brother."

"And if Elena had married anyone else you'd be the first one to make a dirty joke."

"Be that as it may," Rebekah rolled her eyes, "Elena married my brother so I now want to know nothing about her sex life. I'm also going to throw all of these options out and recommend firing whoever thought they were a good idea."

"Current secretary," Elena mumbled, pushing up off the vanity.

"He's fired," Rebekah declared. "Where are your clothes?"

"Packed away, ready for the move," she reached up and started unfurling curls, dropping the curlers into an open bag. "The only clothes I have left are leggings, sweaters and this very silky robe."

Caroline pinned the up-do in place with deft fingers.

"I like that robe," Kol called from the living room.

"You like when I wear nothing under it," she shouted back. The sleeve slipped, revealing her bare shoulder and the edge of her strapless bra.

"Actually, I love that," Kol poked his head in the bedroom.

"You would," she met his eyes in the mirror.

"Clothes?" Rebekah prompted, rolling her eyes.

"I don't think she needs any," he winked, crossing the room in three long strides to stoop and wrap his arms around her waist. "Just like this is perfect."

"I'm not going to the White House in my robe," she shook her head. "The boxes are near the elevator, Bex. And if I can get my husband's paws off me I'll come help you look."

"Do you want me to beat him off with a stick?" Caroline grinned, shifting on her feet.

"I think I can handle him, Care."

"Alright, fine," she held out her hands, "but Kol, I swear, if you mess up that hair you will have the shortest presidency in history." With that said she grabbed Rebekah's arm and left the penthouse's bedroom.

"I thought they'd never leave," he punctuated the statement with a kiss to her bared shoulder. His fingers drew the ties around her waist. "Up for a quickie?"

"Kol," she scolded in a whisper.

"I swear I'll not lay a finger on your hair," he breathed, sinking his teeth into her soft skin.

"Or my makeup," she warned, letting the robe pool around her hips.

"You have my word, darling," he pinched her nipples through her bra, twisting gently.

She caught her breath and rubbed her thighs together.

"Hmm?" Kol's eyes sparkled in the mirror. "Do you think you can be quiet?"

"Shut the door." She glanced over his shoulder.

She rose when he walked backwards and turned, sliding her underwear off. She slipped her feet free and unsnapped her bra; it hit the floor by her panties. Raising one foot to the vanity stool she spread her thighs and dipped a finger between her lips.

She was unsurprised to find herself wet to the touch. It was hardly a wonder after the morning he spent whispering naughty things in her ear whenever he was close enough about the dozens of new places they would find to be intimate.

Then there was the fact that her two best friends were poking around the foyer and could catch them at any moment.

He closed the door gently, twisting the knob to keep it from clicking.

Rather than approach her he tilted his head and smiled, letting his eyes roam over her lithe body.

"You should only ever wear this."

"Polite society might frown on that," she hummed, skimming the tip of her nail over her clit. "Now stop staring and take off your pants. We've got about five minutes before they come back."

"More like ten," he unfastened his belt, the zipper took a little work, "it'll take five just to find the right box."

Stepping out of his trousers he approached her and lifted her hand, popping her finger into his mouth.

"Are you feeling flexible today, my love?" He hooked his thumbs into the side of his boxers and pushed down, freeing his erection.

"I'm always flexible," she rolled her eyes, "and I'd be more flexible if you ever let me finish my yoga."

"Terribly sorry," he lifted the leg she had braced on the stool, "but if you don't want my attentions then perhaps you shouldn't smirk at me and contort yourself into impossible positions without clothing."

"Never once did I say I didn't want them," she braced her hands around his neck while he hooked her leg over his shoulder. "Who does naked yoga in front of their husband without wanting hot, sweaty sex?"

"Sneaky," he guided his cock to her entrance and pushed forwards.

She arched her back, moaning in her throat as he filled her.

"Quiet, darling," he chuckled, running kisses over her neck.

* * *

"We both know what they're doing in there, right?" Caroline popped open a box labeled closet and started sifting through neatly folded clothes, flushing crimson when her fingers displaced a smaller boxes cover. She quickly replaced the lid, covering the toys before Rebekah thought to help with the clothes.

"If you're referring to the fact that she _did not_ get her husband's paws off her then yes, and I'm trying not to think about it." She pulled a silk scarf from her own box and held it up to the blue coat by the door. "But they've got another five minutes before I become the cock block baby sister. Is the dress Elena bought on the honeymoon in there?"

"White, long sleeve, black collar and black bow at the waist?" Caroline lifted it free. "Don't you think it's a little young and semi-bridal for the First Lady?"

"Yes," Rebekah dropped the scarf into the box, "that's why it's perfect, because as much as I like to tease she's not stuffy. And there will be no way anyone could accuse them of having a shotgun wedding before your press release gets out because that dress hugs her waist."

"Plus it goes great with her blue jacket," Caroline held it out to the wool, "and it's that material that doesn't wrinkle so it's impossible to tell it was just in a box."

She passed the dress to Rebekah, folded the top of the box and reached for another labeled shoes. A shriek started and cut off as abruptly.

"Blue shoes?" Caroline held up the heels with criss cross straps.

* * *

Growing up, shoving each other in mud puddles and tossing paint filled balloons at each other, she never would have placed them at the inaugural grounds in the Capitol; not even on the day that he stood up and declared in his squeaky eight year old voice that he was going to be President one day.

And yet they stood in the Capitol. They stood in the Capitol and she couldn't hold in her pride. It shone from her eyes as she watched him place his hand on the Lincoln Bible and raise his other in the air.

She didn't care that hundreds of people were probably staring at their television screens and wondering who the hell she was, standing in the spot so many presidential wives had stood before. She didn't care that at least one camera was probably zooming in on her left hand and trying to find a curve that didn't exist beneath her coat.

She didn't care about that.

She had no room for the embarrassment she thought would be at the back of her head when he declared he wanted her at his side. She had no thoughts to spare for her first public appearance before anybody actually knew they were married.

She couldn't think about it because her _husband_ had his hand on the Lincoln Bible and was swearing the oath of office.

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

"So help you God?" The Chief Justice asked.

"So help me God," Kol smiled.

So much freaking pride. She thought she might explode from keeping it in. The moment they were finally alone he had better watch out because she was going to unleash all of her pent up energy and show him just how proud of him she was.

"Congratulations Mr. President," he shook his hand. Then he surprised Elena by reaching for hers. "Mrs. Mikaelson."

Kol's fingers curled around her hand, taking her with him the few paces to wave towards the gathered public. After his official introduction she expected him to let go of her hand, but really she should have known better because even where they stood she could make out a couple of the shouts demanding her identity.

She didn't care, but she knew he did and that he wouldn't let anybody whisper about her.

Approaching the podium, he flashed her a reassuring smile but held tight to her hand. His other hand rose to acknowledge the applause and cheers.

"Thank you, thank you," he took a deep breath. "I swear I have an official speech, and I'll get to it, but I'd rather not subject anyone to vicious gossip when a few words will clear a matter." He slid his hand from her palm to her hip. "This lovely woman is my new bride, whose love and support was vital during this past year."

Her heart hammered in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut when he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth and cheek.

"Kol Mikaelson," she hissed through her small smile.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Shortest presidency in history," she pressed her lips together. The loud applause drowned out her words.

* * *

The twenty-first century really was a marvel. She could watch the entire inauguration ceremony without ever leaving her home. That was nice because while she had been assigned the coverage after Elena up and quit she had no desire to be squished in with thousands of people to listen live. She had a much better view from her computer screen.

And that was what Reese wanted: he wanted the dirt. He wanted the human emotion behind the speech.

It was a lot easier to see his facial features behind the safety of her screen. Plus, after things went down on the trail she never would have scored an actual interview anyway.

Now if only the camera would stop focusing on the woman with him. What was so special about that damn coat?

"Look away from the screen twenty seconds," she muttered.

Her pencil sat poised above her notebook, ready to summarize the speech.

She frowned when the camera zoomed back out, showing a wider shot of the balcony.

Who was the woman?

Was it his sister?

She had been certain Rebekah Mikaelson had blonde hair, and the woman in blue had perfectly coiffed brown curls.

Was he the first president in history to flaunt a mistress in front of the masses?

That was what the woman had to be. It wasn't like he did anything serious, or longer lasting than a fling.

Who was the newest fling?

Reese was gonna flip.

Her pencil pushed down when the new president opened his mouth, maybe a little too hard as she remembered how wicked his smooth tongue could be. She really should have hidden her research better, gotten a little more pleasure out of it, as it was she had only felt his tongue and fingers.

Why the hell hadn't she gone for the prize?

There was no way he would have answered the knock on the door if she hadn't enthusiastically sucked him off. He would have been too caught up in her tight body to walk away and answer his stupid advisors.

Instead he left her on her knees in that restroom with a promise to come back for more that he never fulfilled. She had barely started unbuttoning her top when the door opened and she was caught covered in saliva and other fluids with her chest on display for the psychiatrist of all people who told her to clean herself up.

"Should have fucked him," she sighed. That would have given Reese his dirt, especially if she managed to not use protection.

There would have been a very telling story. Of course, then she'd have to deal with that telling story day after day.

_"I swear I have an official speech, and I'll get to it, but I'd rather not subject anyone to vicious gossip when a few words will clear a matter. This lovely woman is my new bride, whose love and support was vital during this past year."_

Her grip tightened on the pencil as her mouth popped open.

_Wife?_

The camera finally gave a clear picture of the woman's face and she gasped, breaking the lead in her pencil.

* * *

"I'm gonna kill him," Caroline hissed, storming through the newsroom floor. She squeezed between shouting individuals and dodged balls of paper, ignoring calls of her name.

"Forbes?" Reese looked up when she walked into his office. "Have you seen this? Gilbert's the fucking first lady."

"I saw," she slapped an envelope down on the table.

"What's this?" He picked it up. "She give you the scoop or something?"

"That's my letter of resignation," she spun on her heel, "effective immediately."

"You're quitting?" His brows rose.

"I got a new job offer I couldn't turn down this morning," she spoke over her shoulder, "that doesn't involve opening the doors on people's personal lives." She hesitated before leaving and swallowed. "If you want the story you should check out the post in the morning."

* * *

_'Twenty-eight years ago Rebekah Mikaelson brought home her new best friend. On Christmas Eve she welcomed that friend into her home as her new sister, but this was far from her first wedding. The first wedding came shortly after the girls met._

_Kol Mikaelson and Elena Gilbert were wed by an enthusiastic Rebekah in her backyard at the tender ages of seven and five. They sealed the marriage with a good old fashioned shove into a mud puddle._

_This reporter found the second wedding more dignified…'_

"Wha'cha reading?" Aiden wiped a rag over the display case and tilted his head, attempting to get a good look at the newspaper. "You know you're supposed to help me clean, right?"

"In a minute," Monique rested her chin in her hand.

"What's so interesting?"

"You remember the 1920s opal engagement ring?" She turned the page around and pointed to a picture. "I sold it to our new president, and he gave it to his new wife."

* * *

**June 4, 2021**

* * *

"I swear," Elena straightened his tie and smoothed back his hair while he read through his notes. "You'd lose your head if it weren't for me."

"I'd certainly look less presidential," he flipped through his notes, reviewing quickly for the press conference he was already five minutes late for.

"Aren't you late enough already?" Caroline adjusted her clipboard. The press secretary badge caught on the metal and she spent a few seconds working it free.

"Maybe I like putting it off so I can avoid being called the White House Baby by smart ass reporters," he muttered.

Elena pressed her lips together and smoothed down his lapels.

"They'd better come up with a new nickname for you soon," she cleared her throat, "I don't think I can handle two babies in the White House."

"New nickname sounds good," he nodded, placing an absentminded kiss on her cheek.

Elena's looked to Caroline when he strode into the press room and found the blonde's eyes threatening to pop out of her head.

"You got where I was going with that right?" She pointed to her friend.

"Oh yeah," she nodded. Her shock gave way to full blown excitement as she grasped at her friend's hand. "Our babies will be the same age."

Voices drifted out from the crowded room. They were various questions that overlapped, but the room went quiet when she heard the nickname she had just tried to use to break the news.

"Mr. President?" The call grew more insistent, coming from no fewer than six people as Caroline released her hand.

"Incoming," she whispered.

The door swung open and she gasped as she was swept up into his strong arms. Her catch of breath turned to bright laughter while they twirled in the hallway.

And if she didn't notice the sudden flash of a dozen cameras, well, she had an excuse because she was lost in his happy kisses.

How could she be expected to focus on anything else?

* * *

**The Post**

**June 5, 2021**

**Is There a New Baby in the White House?**


End file.
